#i miss wrenching and would like the practice

[goodplace-janet]

my difficult errand today is to go to the local community bike shop and get a new-to-me refurbished bike, because mine has finally kicked the bucket

or so i thought. the things making this challenging are a) change is hard, and a change to a tool i use every day will involve an intimidating adjustment period

and b) i am emotionally attached to this bicycle that has been with me through all the tough times and big changes in my life over the past decade, and the thought of donating it to the shop to be stripped for parts was making me sad

so i've decided to hang onto the old bike, see if the issues with it can be repaired, and if so, do the work of overhauling it over the next few months and eventually leave it at my parents' house so it'll be available when i visit.

[kaissatou]

Namgyu hcs namgyu hcss, there's almost nothing about him😭😭😭 and I got such a love-hate relationship with this guy so it would be cool something like love-hate related? Maybe headcanons or whatever you like where namgyu and reader aren't even a couple but it's like a hot and cold thing, teasing each other all the time..? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT LMAOOO But yk yk, let your mind flow, it can be nsfw too, however you see fitting!

sorry if this isn’t quite what you wanted lovely, thank you for requesting ♡ afab!reader. not yet proofread!!

fwb!namgyu who never fails to get on your last nerve. He also never fails to milk your gooey little pussy dry. He isn’t your friend- he also isn’t your enemy, but he certainly isn’t your lover.

fwb!namgyu who (lightly) smacks the back of your head whenever he’s behind you purely to annoy you, and totally not to feel the softness of your hands on his chest as you push him away, muttering curses. He hopes you don’t seem to notice the hearts in his eyes, his soft irises suddenly enlarging. You don’t need to see his small grin as he walks off, either.

Constantly going back and forth with fwb!namgyu until he’s pushing you against the wall before you can clock it, his soft lips massaging your own in a sloppy spell, like he’s trying to claim you as his own. Fuck it. You slip a hand into his hair, tangling your fingers between loose strands with a delicious pull that has him- was that a moan? Fuck it. Once can’t hurt.

fwb!namgyu whose got you bent on your bed, back arching in a position that you didn’t know was even possible for you until now. Hips smacking into your own roughly, animalistic grunts filling your ears. A firm hand wrapped around your hair, the pulls adorning your whines as he caresses and cradles that messy sweet spot as he’s balls deep within you. Your face pressed onto the sheets, your overstimulated tears rolling onto the pillow.

It was never just once. After that fateful night it was practically impossible to keep your hands off of each other. Soft touches in the hallway and if you blinked you would’ve missed it, to more obvious things like a loud, breathy kiss the second you open the door and let him in, his limbs intertwining with your own.

fwb!namgyu who used to send you up? messages to you in the middle of the night (hinting that he’s down to fuck) before getting an ounce of dignity. Now, it’s can i come see u?

fwb!namgyu who knows he’s fucked when his mind can’t even imagine teasing you anymore. fwb!namgyu who stays up late at night with your pretty grin wngrained into his mind, the way your eyes curl as he makes you laugh. And then he’s imagining the way your lip curled into a small that one time, and he’s disgusted with himself that he ever let that pretty smile fade. He rolls over to emerge himself into the covers, in hopes of silencing thoughts of you.

fwb!namgyu whose heart drops when you phone him in the middle of one night, the crackle of your shitty network not failing to hide the heart wrenching sobs of yours that had his stomach twisting uncomfortably, his hands itching uncontrollably.

And instantly he’s driving to you before he can stop it, before you can say anything else, his hands gripping the wheel oh so tight, but he can’t even feel it, he can’t even think of anything but you. He’s never done this for a girl before. He’s never done this for you. fwb!namgyu, who’s pretty brown eyes are filled with worry as you let him in, instantly engulfing your sorrow filled frame in a tight embrace.

fwb!namgyu whose heart lets you cry in his arms and whispers pretty words of reassurance to you, a different Namgyu that you knew. A Namgyu that you could grow to…love?

fwb!namgyu who doesn’t seem to annoy you anymore. The same Namgyu whose presence you learn to yearn for. fwb!namgyu who never fails to provide you with flowers whenever he visits. Namgyu who doesn’t visit only for sex anymore, but for movie nights, dinner dates, and things he once deemed before as all too romantic. fwb!namgyu who wants it all, with you.

boyfriend!namgyu whos fucking making love to you so delicately, so softly, so in love, so different from how it was before. boyfriend!namgyu whose got you in missionary, his hair tickling against your neck, his face coming down to your neck, his pretty pink lips adorning your neck. So loving.

Boyfriend!namgyu whose making you take him deeeeep, peppering your face with kisses and shushing your whimpers and whines and moans with i know, I know, shh… His pretty cock filling you to the brim, like the puzzle peice you’ve being missing your whole life.

Boyfriend!namgyu who wakes you up with the smell of coffee and orange juice, your naked body cascaded and hidden like a prize under the soft silk of your duvet, a fullfilled smile hanging lazily on your lips, and the remnant of his kisses. He’ll just have to replace those memories with new ones.

[alltheirdamn]

My Kink is Karma | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend breaks up with you, so you decide to get revenge... Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 3k Warnings: no-outbreak AU, undefined age gap (pick your poison), teasing, revenge sex, unprotected piv sex, size!kink, daddy!kink, joel folds you like a pretzel, filthy language, pet names (sweetheart, daddy, good girl, etc.), orgasm, creampie, a touch of cuckholding i guess??, slight voyurism, heavy kissing, language... is that it? A/N: Y'all already know I get influenced all too easily when it comes to music... anyway, the song inspo is, of course, My Kink Is Karma

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Stupid. So fucking stupid. 

Two years together, and he decides to break up with you? Granted, things were already on a downward slope, but over text? Seriously. Fucking asshole. You were cramming his shit into an all too-small cardboard box, huffing a slew of obscenities. Old t-shirts, bullshit birthday cards, photos… you didn’t want a single one. You should burn them all, but you wanted him hurt. You wanted him to stare at those memories and regret it all. 

Pulling up to his house—well, his dad’s house since he was a deadbeat without a place to stay—you hauled the box into both hands and staggered up the porch. You had put on what you considered your ‘revenge dress’: a flowy sundress that barely covered your ass. Yeah, I hope you regret this, you thought to yourself. Princess Diana would be looking down at you proud as fuck. 

Hoisting the box on your hip, you pounded on the front door, a scowl on your face. Jesus, the box was heavy as you balanced it in one arm. The door wrenched open, and you were ready to toss angry words in his face. 

His father, Joel, stood in the doorway, and you were quick to bite your tongue. Soft, brown eyes nestled under thick eyebrows gazed down at you. His lips twitched into a cautious smile, the plush pout covered by a dark mustache. Joel’s frame practically filled the doorway, and damn, was he always this attractive? 

“This is a surprise,” he stated. “Whatcha doin’ with all that stuff?”

You shoved it into his chest, your arms tired from holding its weight. 

“Your piece of shit son broke up with me,” you grumbled. 

Joel wrapped thick fingers around the edge of the box, his eyebrows furrowing together. Guess his son didn’t fill him in on his latest fuck up. Real shocker. 

“M’sorry to hear that. Y’wanna come in for a minute? I’ll get you some iced tea to cool down.”

“I don’t wanna impose on you. I figure I’m probably not welcomed here anymore.”

“You’re more than welcome here,” Joel argued. You didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered over your body, catching sight of your dress blowing upward in the breeze. 

Ohh…

“If you insist,” you said.

Joel nodded toward the doorway, letting you walk in first. He discarded the box by the front door and led the way to the kitchen. You kept yourself fixated on how his back flexed under his flannel, the muscles in his shoulders stretching across the fabric. If only his son had been this hot, maybe you would’ve had sex more often. 

You propped yourself on the kitchen barstool, swinging your legs beneath you as you watched Joel pour you a glass of sweet tea—typical Southern gentleman. After pouring himself a glass, Joel leaned against the counter, his muscular forearms braced against the edge. 

“So…” He drawled. “Y’been alright since the break-up?”

You rolled your eyes, bringing the glass to your lips. Joel’s dark eyes tracked the movement of your lips around the rim, and you rewarded him with a coy smile. It was enough to make him clear his throat and readjust his stance behind the coverage of the counter. 

“Oh, I’m great,” you smiled, licking your top teeth. “It’s always fun when your boyfriend breaks up with you over text. He didn’t even have the balls to do it in person.”

“He ain’t the brightest,” Joel commented. 

“No, he definitely isn’t.” 

Joel quirked a grin, and you quickly realized you were talking to your ex’s dad; you should hold back a bit. “Shit, sorry. That’s not nice of me.”

He shook his head, tipping his glass to his lips. Now, it was your turn to obsess over his mouth and how his plush bottom lip curved around the rim as he gulped down the liquid. You pressed your thighs together, attempting to quell the throbbing ache between your legs. 

“No need to be sorry,” Joel said. “You’re too sweet of a girl for a man like him.”

“Calling him a ‘man’ is generous of you,” you laughed sarcastically. “Barely got a few inches on him to call himself that.”

“No need to kick him while he’s down, sweetheart.”

“Respectfully, Mr. Miller, fuck him. I deserved better,” you argued. 

Joel’s jaw clenched, and you could almost see the wheels turn in his head. Stepping away from the counter, he strode to where you sat, towering over you with a flicker of lust behind his chocolate eyes. The lace thong barely covering your sex was already drenched just from the way he looked at you.

“What you’re sayin’ is that you deserve a real man,” he offered. 

You parted your legs just a few inches, but it was enough of an invitation for Joel to step forward and crowd your body. With his knee pressed to the apex of your sex and his hand braced against the back of your chair, you had nowhere to go. The thrill of it all was electrifying your veins. 

“I think I do,” you said defiantly. 

“Would that make y’feel better, sweetheart? Fuckin’ a real man?” He asked, his fingers twirling in your hair that hung over your shoulder. 

“God, yes,” you whined, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning at his words. 

Joel leaned forward, a breath away from your lips. Were you seriously about to do this? Hell, it was too late now to even think twice. You wanted revenge, and here was the perfect opportunity. You craned your neck higher, waiting for him to close the gap. Joel only gave you a pitying smile, the silver strands in his beard glittering in the kitchen sunlight. 

“Naugty lil’ thing,” he taunted, grinning wide.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. Joel crushed his lips to yours, his tongue prodding your mouth open wider. The moan you had been holding back slipped out at the same time he sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You reached up to tug at the soft curls atop his head, your nails scratching against his scalp. Joel groaned into your open mouth, his hand coming down to grip your bare thigh. 

“Gonna let your ex-boyfriend’s daddy fuck you, sweetheart? Gonna let me show y’what a real man is like?” Joel panted. 

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, the word slipping right off your tongue.

You pulled away embarrassed, your lips swollen and wet and your face burning a bright red. Joel didn’t seem phased at all by your little slip-up. In fact, he looked at you with even more hunger than before. Pupils blown wide and a smile brighter than the sun, you were so in over your head. Whatever he was promising, you knew you’d be in for a treat. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, y’can’t be callin’ me that and expect me to go easy on you,” Joel said. 

“Then don’t go easy,” you insisted. “Show me what I’ve been missing out on, Daddy.”

Joel practically lost it as you repeated the word, his arms coming around your back to haul you up and out of the chair. You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking your heels together, and let him drag you away from the kitchen and into the living room. 

Your back hit the couch in seconds, the sundress on your body billowing onto the cushions. Joel hunched over your sprawled body, sucking marks down the column of your neck. Everything in your body hummed with pleasure, the growing need inside your stomach building. 

Joel dipped a hand under your dress, his fingers brushing up the lacy thong that stuck to your skin with arousal. You preened into his touch, lifting your hips to seek any sort of relief from the tension twisting inside your core.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Joel exhaled. “Y’already this wet for me? Fuckin’ soakin’ my hand, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Mhmm,” you whispered, rolling your hips against his fingertips.

Joel pinched your lace-covered clit between his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud softly until you cried out. Your hands clung to his forearms, digging into the bulging veins hidden under the fabric of his button-up. God, revenge would taste so fucking sweet.

“S’alright,” he cooed. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

It shocked you how fast Joel managed to yank your underwear off, tossing it halfway across the room before working at undoing his belt. Your eyes nearly fell out of your head when you saw his cock spring free from his boxers. His son was definitely not packing this kind of heat, and your sex clenched around nothing as the anticipation flowed through your veins. The shocked silence and wide-eyed stare you wore garnered a laugh from Joel.

“We’ll make it fit, sweetheart. You’re gonna take every inch of me like a good girl, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded, biting your lip.

Propping one leg on the couch, Joel gripped the back of your thighs and pinned them at either side of your head, nearly folding you in half. 

“Keep ‘em right here, y’understand?” 

You muttered a quick yes, settling your fingers around the backs of your knees. Joel gave his cock a few lazy strokes before lining the weeping head of it at your entrance. Brushing the tip through your silky folds, he pushed in an inch, grunting as you cried at the intrusion. Fuck, it hurt. 

“Tightest pussy I ever felt, sweetheart,” he groaned, sinking in another inch. 

The stretch of his cock inside you was unbearable, every part of him rubbing against your walls until you were filled completely. The moment Joel bottomed out, you lost all capacity to breathe correctly, your voice coming out in small whimpers and cries. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Just suckin’ me right in. God damn, y’feel like Heaven.”

“It’s so big, Daddy,” you moaned. 

“Takin’ it so well for me, sweetheart. Y’ready for more?”

You bobbed your head, your eyes falling to see where your bodies connected. The hair around Joel’s cock brushed over your swollen lips with each shallow thrust, his hips colliding with yours in a steady rhythm as you adjusted to his size.

“My son ever fuck you like this?” He growled. 

“No,” you exhaled shakily. 

“Didn’t think so.”

Then he was ramming into you…hard. Your sweaty fingers slipped off your legs, but Joel was quick to replace them with his own hands, molding you into the couch as he took you rough and fast. The room fell apart around you, leaving you crying out every time his cock shoved deeper inside you. You swore you felt him in your stomach, the thick girth of his cock stretching you beyond measure. 

“Fuckin’ take it, sweetheart,” he choked out. “Keep takin’ daddy’s cock. Lookin’ so pretty folded up under me.”

“Yes! Yes!” You shouted.

The weight of your breasts bounced with each onslaught of thrusts, your chest heaving for air as he stole it from you over and over again. Even with your ears muffled by your legs, the sound of your sex suctioning around his cock was unmistakable. Reaching between your bodies, you pressed your fingers against your clit, blindly searching for release as it trembled through your muscles. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” Joel teased, glancing up at you.

He pinned you with a violent stare, his lips twisted up in a smirk, and a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead. Christ, you were a fucking whore for this, but you loved it. You couldn’t give a damn about your ex when his dad was balls deep inside you. 

“Daddy, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

Your fingers were working twice as fast now, chasing that inescapable bloom of pleasure unwinding inside your core. You pulsated around his cock, sucking him in further as his thrusts grew ragged and out of sync. 

“Yeah, you are. Can feel this pretty pussy milkin’ my cock already.”

“Harder, Daddy. Need—fuck—need you deeper inside me.”

Joel tensed at your words, his movements slowing down—the exact opposite of what you begged for. He tilted his head over you, studying how your eyes welled with tears, and your lips trembled.

“Daddyyy,” you pleaded. 

He bent down over your body, his weight crushing into yours and plunging his dick as far as your core would let him. You cried out as he molded his mouth to yours, swallowing down every noise you tried to make. From this angle, you could feel Joel everywhere. The bruising hold of his fingers around your legs, the twitch of his cock against your cervix, the heat of his tongue intertwining over yours. 

Why hadn’t you considered dating older men from the start? This was ecstasy. 

Joel rocked his hips into you in a slow rhythm, the urgency having left his body and replaced now by determined movements only to bring you closer to the brink of release. You lapped at Joel’s tongue, sloppy wet sounds from your mouth mixing with the lewd noises of your bodies slapping together. 

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” You cried, the sound muffled against Joel’s lips. He buried his head into your neck, his teeth bearing down on your scorching skin. The precipice of release was at your fingertips, and you were toppling over. 

“That’s it,” Joel crooned. “Cum all over daddy’s cock. Wanna feel you chokin’ it when you come undone.”

Stars shot across the back of your eyelids, your orgasm ready to barrel through you. You heaved in a breath, anticipating the spiral ready to unfurl inside you when the sound of the front door opening paralyzed you. 

“Dad?” A voice called out.

Joel whipped his head toward the hallway, his cock throbbing inside you. You pinched his chin, dragging his face to meet your eyes. 

“Keep fucking me,” you demanded. “Let me be your good girl, Daddy.”

Joel’s lip parted, a protest on the tip of his tongue. You wordlessly shook your head, lifting your hips to meet his in a silent plea for more. This was the moment. This was your chance at revenge.

“S’gonna get me in trouble, sweetheart,” Joel hissed, assaulting you with another series of quick thrusts. 

You arched upward, your mouth brushing against his ear.

“I wanna cum for you,” you whispered. “Let’s show your son what it looks like to make a girl really orgasm.” 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned.

You anchored Joel to your chest; your legs pressed into his shoulders as he drove his hips against yours over…and over… In the distance, you could hear your ex-boyfriend call out for Joel again, a hint of suspicion in his voice. Let him fucking listen to you; let him see what his dad was doing to you. You clawed at Joel’s back, your nails tearing into his shirt as your orgasm vibrated in your muscles. Right as the spark of adrenaline hit your veins, your ex came into view in the doorway, his eyes wide with horror. 

“Yes, Daddy!” You pleaded.

Everything inside you tensed up, your sex gripping around Joel’s cock until his movements strained above you. Joel groaned in your ear, your name falling off his tongue in choked syllables as he painted your insides with his release. As he slumped against your body, you peered up at your ex, a satisfied grin on your face. 

“What the fuck?” He seethed, standing motionless just feet away. 

“Your shit’s by the door!” You shouted at him. “Why don’t you take it upstairs? Your daddy and I are busy.”

Joel loosed a breath, chuckling softly in your neck. 

“You’re mean for that, sweetheart,” he mumbled. 

“Fucking your son’s ex-girlfriend seems a whole lot worse,” you whispered back, keeping your voice low enough for only him to hear. 

Peeking back over the back of the couch, you noticed the doorway empty, all signs of your ex gone from view. You tapped Joel’s shoulder lightly, urging him to unwind your limbs from above your head. You ached all over but in the best fucking way possible. Straightening his spine, Joel lowered your legs down and slowly pulled out of you. The warmth of his seed leaking from your entrance was a welcomed reminder of what you had done. Revenge tasted sweet but felt so much sweeter. 

You groaned as you stretched your legs, staring up at Joel with a wide smile. Despite the wreckage you caused, Joel smiled right back, and his eyes shifted from your red face down to your dripping sex. You squeezed your legs together, swinging them over the edge of the couch. 

“Shit,” you muttered. “Where the hell did you toss my underwear?”

“M’sure they’re ‘round here somewhere,” Joel shrugged, tucking his cock back into his jeans. 

“Well, if you find them, you can keep them.” 

Joel extended a hand, insisting on helping you to your feet, which you appreciated since your legs felt like jelly. Heavy footsteps shook the roof above you, no doubt from your ex, as he stormed through the house. You giggled at the thought, knowing you had just given him the best taste of karma. You glanced at Joel, seeing his wild curls sticking up at odd angles. 

“I should probably get going.”

“Leavin’ me with a whole lotta mess, sweetheart,” he huffed. 

You leaned into his solid frame, kissing his lips quickly. 

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” you smirked. “It’s him you might need to worry about.”

Joel swatted your ass, urging you out of the living room and toward the front door. You gave him a quick flutter of your fingers and said goodbye before skipping down the porch steps with his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

[societyfolklore]

Hands Dirtier Than Yours

Title: Hands Dirtier Than Yours

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  You only meant to swing by the garage after hours to pick up your car. But one look at Bucky Barnes, sweat-slicked and covered in grease, and all pretense slips.

Word Count:  2.4K (fast and dirty by my standards)

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, Rough sex, Public risk / semi-public location, Dirty talk, Praise & degradation, Grease kink / mildly messy sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex (dont do it...its nasty) NO BETA

A/N:  Cos that Vanity Fair pic has me obsessed (no not the header pic.. that just worked for tattoo… yes I did do the edit myself, I know its wacked..) Excuse any mistakes I just wanted to get this up and I've barely re read it so if stuffs whack, well it happens.

You weren’t supposed to come by the garage this late.

The sun had already dipped below the skyline, leaving the air heavy with leftover heat. The overhead fluorescents buzzed softly, casting a pale glow across the concrete floor slick with oil stains and long shadows. Somewhere in the back, a radio crackled out some low bluesy guitar, half drowned by the clink of tools being put away.

Your car sat parked just outside the bay door, freshly fixed. And inside-

Bucky was still working.

He stood with his back to you, wiping down a wrench with a grease-black rag, the muscles in his arms flexing under smudged skin. His coveralls were tied around his waist, tank top clinging to his torso like a second skin, darkened with sweat at the collar. A full sleeve tattoo ran down his left arm, ink winding through sinew and grease like it belonged there. A cigarette hung lazily from his lips, glowing red as he inhaled, the faint scent of tobacco curling through the smell of hot metal and gasoline.

There was something inherently hot about watching a man who knew exactly what to do with his hands. And those hands- greased up, veiny, confident- had you far too fixated on your mechanic lately. Especially when he looked like that.

You leaned one shoulder into the doorframe, trying not to look too obvious as your gaze traced down the curve of his spine, the grease-streaked lines of his forearms.

He turned before you could pretend you hadn’t been staring. Lip curled, cigarette still dangling.

“Didn’t think you’d show up till tomorrow,” he muttered, gravel-thick voice rolling through you.

You shrugged, casual. "Couldn’t wait. Thought I'd just swing by after the gym..."

You'd showed up in your gym gear- tight leggings, clingy tanks, always looking just a little flushed, like you’d come straight from a workout. It wasn’t about being obvious. It was about giving him just enough to look at. You liked the way his eyes flicked over you, how his mouth would twitch like he was biting back something feral.

A way to show off without looking like you were out for attention.

But you had his attention now.

His brows lifted just slightly. "Missed your car?"

"Mmhmm."

He snorted. "Bullshit."

You smirked and walked past him toward your car, hips swaying just a little more than usual- just enough to tease, to test. The kind of walk that dared him to look, and you knew damn well he would. You didn’t glance back, but you could feel the burn of his stare settling low in your stomach.

At the hood, you bent slightly, fingertips tracing the metal edge like you were checking for something, though you didn’t care in the slightest. You stretched a little further than you needed to, arching your back and tilting your hips just enough to make sure he got the full picture. Leggings painted onto your skin, spine drawn into a perfect curve, your breath hitched as the heat of his gaze practically scorched through your clothes.

There was power in it. A thrill.

You didn't dress like this for just anyone. But for him? For Bucky Barnes with his slick hands and slow, knowing looks? You’d do it again and again.

“Looks real good,” you said lightly, glancing back over your shoulder with a smug little smile. “You take care of her?”

Silence.

Then the rag hit the floor. The cigarette followed.

"Not the only thing in here looking good…"

A tingle ran down your spine at his words, low and rough like gravel dragged over pavement. The sound of them wrapped around your ribs and sank down lower, pooling heat between your legs.

“Been seein’ a lot more of you lately,” he added, voice just loud enough to carry. “Like how you’ve taken to those little neighborhood jogs past my garage every other evening.”

You tried to play it cool, but your stomach flipped. You'd figured he might’ve noticed- but hearing him say it outright made your breath catch and your pulse skip.

“Oh?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “You clocking my runs now?”

“Hard not to,” he said with a low chuckle, taking a step closer. “You bounce past in those little sport tops, all flushed and breathin’ heavy. Kinda hard to miss.”

You swallowed hard, your smirk stretching wider despite the heat creeping up your neck.

“What can I say,” you murmured, glancing at him over your shoulder. “I like the route.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, eyes dark, voice going lower as he approached.

Not fast.

Not slow.

Just like a man crossing a line he’d been toeing for far too long. Just with that purposeful, heavy stride that made your stomach flip, like your body knew something was about to happen before your brain caught up. It was the kind of movement that made your heart race and your thighs press together instinctively.

“Bet you do. But let’s not pretend you chose that route for the scenery. Seems to me you just wanted me to see you runnin’. Wanted me to see certain things… move. Hell, half the time I think you slow down just to make sure I get a good look.”

Your cheeks went hot, but your grin didn’t falter. You could feel the tension thickening, the invisible thread between you stretched to the point of snapping. It was like the heat between you had become a living thing, clawing for contact, crackling in the narrow space left between your bodies.

He stopped just shy of touching you, the heat from his body radiating into your skin. You could feel his breath ghosting along your cheek, his eyes mapping your face like he was committing it to memory. "Next time you jog by, maybe just come in and tell me what you really want. Save us both some time."

You let out a breathless little scoff, but it came out shaky. “And what do you think I want?”

His grin turned feral. “Think we both know that answer, sweetheart.”

When he reached for you, he didn’t speak. Just looked down at you, eyes flicking over your face, your mouth, your shirt- and then his hand came up, fingers smeared with grease as he cupped your jaw like he had every right to. His thumb brushed your lower lip, slow and deliberate.

“So desperate I swear I can smell it over all this engine oil,” he murmured, voice like a snarl made of smoke and grit. “You’re drivin’ me crazy, but I think you know that.”

You didn’t get a chance to answer. His mouth crashed into yours- hungry, dirty, tasting like tobacco and sweat. His hands were rough and everywhere- gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, pressing up under your shirt. Grease smeared your skin. You didn’t care.

“I was under that fuckin’ car all day,” Bucky growled, dragging your shorts down. “Sweatin’ my ass off. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about these fuckin’ thighs. ’Bout that pretty mouth of yours.”

You gasped as he picked you up like nothing, shoved your back against the hood of your car. The metal creaked, warm from the day’s heat.

“What if someone walks in?” you whispered, breathless.

“You just better hope they don’t. Now bend the fuck over.”

Bucky rolled you onto your stomach across the hood of your car, rough hands dragging your leggings down in one sharp pull. The warm air kissed your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his palm as it skimmed over the curve of your ass- possessive, greedy, like he needed to memorize it with touch alone.

“Goddamn,” he muttered behind you, more to himself than anything.

Then his fingers sank between your legs- rough and unrelenting- drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. His fingers were thick and sure, working you open like he’d been imagining it for weeks, every stroke calculated and ruthless. The contact sent shockwaves down your spine, your hips jerking against the hood with every drag of his knuckles. He groaned under his breath, like he could feel your need in his bones.

"Fuck, you’re soaked," he muttered, voice thick with hunger. His palm pressed against your mound, holding you down while two fingers curled inside you, dragging against your walls until your knees buckled. The slow, grinding pressure that had your vision going white at the edges.

"Yeah," he growled, "that’s it. That’s the sound I wanted. Don't hold back on me now."

"F-fuck, Bucky..." you gasped, voice cracking as your hips rocked against his hand. "Oh god.."

You could feel yourself clench around his fingers, your body betraying just how badly you needed more.

“Jesus, sweetheart. Already this wet for me?” he rasped. “Ain’t even touched you right yet.”

He dragged his fingers out slow, glistening with slick, and brought them to his mouth- lips parting just enough to suck the taste of you off his knuckles. He groaned low, like it punched the air from his lungs.

Then he yanked his zipper down, pulled himself free- thick, flushed, already hard. One hand gripped your thigh, slick with oil and strength, the other guiding himself into you with one dirty thrust.

The moan that ripped from your throat wasn’t even human.

“That’s it,” Bucky grunted. “Take me. So fuckin’ tight, god- look at you. Little mess over hood.”

His pace was punishing, making you writhe, chest pressed into the metal of your own car. Your needy hole squeezing around the fat length of his cock- Bucky let out a guttural moan that rattled through his chest. Every thrust had hit that devastating angle, his thick tip grinding up against your g-spot with ruthless precision. Wet velvet walls clung to him, milking him as he drove into you harder, deeper, the slap of skin and metal echoing through the empty garage. His hands were everywhere- one gripping your hip tight enough to bruise, the other dragging up your spine, fingers splayed like he needed to feel every tremble you gave him.

"Fuck- just like that," he growled, hips snapping against your ass, sweat dripping down his chest. "You feel that? How tight you’re clenching down on me? Wanna be my little slut didn't ya?"

Your cries turned into broken gasps, every thrust sending you crashing deeper into overstimulation. His cock filled you so completely it bordered on painful- fat and relentless, each thick inch dragging against swollen walls as your body locked down on him, wringing him dry. The hood beneath you rattled with the force of it, the sharp edge biting into your hips with every shove.

You tried to brace yourself, fingers scrabbling against the smooth metal, but there was no grip to be found. Just heat, slickness, and the relentless pounding of his hips as he used your body like he owned it. You could feel the pressure building- sharp, unbearable, blinding. His cock kept hitting that same ruthless spot inside you, dragging across it again and again until your legs were trembling, moans caught somewhere between a sob and a scream.

“Christ,” Bucky growled, voice hoarse and desperate. “Damn boroughs brat, just out to get railed by just about anyone.”

It took nothing more. Your back arched, body clenching down hard as your orgasm detonated through you- violent, gasping, unstoppable. You cried out, stars bursting behind your eyes, every muscle locking as wave after wave of pleasure tore through you. Your pussy milked him greedily, pulsing around him as you lost yourself, pleasure scorching through your limbs until all you could do was hang on.

"Bucky FUCK."  You didn't care if anyone heard you, not when you felt like your world was nothing more then the sensation between you legs. 

You moaned like sin, hands banging down on the hood, eyes rolling back as your body gave out. He fucked you through it, relentless, grunting your name like it was torn from his soul. You barely had time to catch a breath before his hand wound in your hair, pulling your head back so his mouth could ghost against your ear.

"You wanted this," he panted. "Showin’ off those thighs, wearin’ those tight little things- wanted me to ruin you. You fuckin’ got it."

His hips moved again, thrusting up into you while he held onto your hip and hair, chasing his own end. Using you in a way you had never thought possible. He was breathing heavy, chest to your back, sweat dripping off his brow onto your spine.

His mouth found your ear, teeth nipping the lobe with a low growl. "Takin’ me so fuckin’ good," he panted. "You’re mine now, baby. Gonna fill you up till you’re drippin’."

You barely managed a whimper before he slammed in one final time, deep and punishing, hips locked tight against your ass as he came- hot, possessive, claiming- his cock twitching inside you as he emptied every last drop. He stayed there a moment, catching his breath, still buried deep, hands possessive as ever.

Then he pulled out, slow and unbothered by the mess he made. You felt him drip down your thighs as the night air hit you, sharp and cool. Your legs shook violently, knees nearly giving out as you struggled to stay upright on the hood.

“Careful,” he muttered, catching your elbow just before you collapsed. "Didn’t mean to break you. Not yet anyway."

You tried to glare at him, but you were too far gone, too boneless. Instead, you just exhaled a shaky laugh.

He wiped you down with that same filthy rag, still grinning like the smug bastard he was.

“Oil change is on the house,” he added, eyes glinting with something darker, hungrier. “Long as you keep stoppin’ by to let me check your fluids.”

You huffed a breath, still catching yourself on shaking arms. “Not exactly how I planned my tune-up going.”

Bucky leaned in again, fingers brushing a smudge of grease off your cheek. “Yeah? Maybe next time I’ll rotate your tires too.”

You groaned, trying to shove at him weakly. He didn’t budge.

He chuckled. “C’mon, sweetheart. You bring that ass around here dressed like that, you know what I’m gonna do.”

You looked back at him, lip caught between your teeth. “Might have to come by again soon. Let you top me off or something.”

His grin widened. “Damn right. Bring that pretty ass in for regular maintenance.”

Tags: @ruexj283 @yesiamthatwierd @trojanaurora @hextech-bros

[jo-harrington]

Squall (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort. Established Relationship

Note: I had actually started this a few weeks ago during the first big storm of the season when we had tornadic activity. And then I second guessed myself. Then the other night this exact thing happened to me with some lightning right in my area. So I brought her back. Wish we could have an Eddie to calm us during a storm.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Part of being from the midwest meant that the weather was a part of your personality, whether you liked it or not.

Complaining about heat and cold and humidity with and to anyone who was willing to listen. Cursing drivers struggling through the slushy streets of the season’s first snows. Standing outside during summer storms with your dad until the skies turned green and you were forced to seek shelter from—probably, but most likely not—a tornado.

As a matter of fact, you and Eddie only met because of the weather. It had been a rainy Tuesday night and the two of you had gotten into a fender bender just outside of the Hideout. You'd been embarrassed when you said you didn't have insurance, but thankfully he worked at the local body shop and said he would handle everything. As long as he could buy you a drink.

So in your opinion, a little rain never hurt anyone.

Until it could.

Your dad always used to joke that the only time you got scared of the dark was during a thunderstorm. And the only time you were afraid of thunder was at night. You were the butt of many jokes during your childhood, after nights when you would wail in your bed as thunder roared right outside your window. As you got older, your fear never dissipated; you only understood it more. Only hid it more.

During the day, you could prepare for a storm. You could look outside the window, see the skies darken. See the trees whipping and know that you were in danger. But at night? And late? It was impossible.

Dark skies were made darker by the clouds, visibility near to zero. The gentle, constant patter of rain against the roof could usually lull you to sleep, but when the wind rolled in and rattled the windows? Or when an unexpected BOOM of thunder broke you from your dreams, as a storm howled right outside? It shook you to your core.

You were not in control and you were in danger, the instinct instilled deep in your bones.

Now, ifyou were lucky, Eddie would be right beside you and you could cuddle into him and let the weight of his arms and the sound of his heartbeat shield you from the chaos just outside. But some nights, you found yourself in bed, alone, and shaking under the blankets.

Like tonight. A sudden boom of thunder tore you from your dreams and your eyes darted around the dark room as your heart raced with fear. You could see the little bits of light under the door of your bedroom and your panic subsided the slightest bit knowing that Eddie was not out in the storm.

He was a night owl thanks to late practices at Gareth's or DnD sessions that ran long. You were always astounded if he made it home before midnight, let alone in bed.

You knew that if you could just get up, you would find him just beyond the door watching the flashing television screen as he finished the last bits of his dinner. But you were practically paralyzed, not just unwilling but unable to move. As if the monster that caused the pandemonium outside wouldn't realize you were there, and might let up it's torment if you just stayed still.

Irrationality enabled by a sleep-addled mind.

Another flash of lightning clawed around the edges of the curtains, illuminating your bedroom and you whimpered and curled in on yourself. You wrenched your eyes shut as the thunder rumbled and shook your walls, and you missed the sound of footsteps padding down the hall. You didn't notice the door squeaking open, or the soft call of your name.

You were alone with your fear until the bed dipped behind you and Eddie slid under the comforter. His arms curled around you, perfect placed around your waist like they were mean to be there, and gently pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

"Hey," he whispered softly. "You ok sweetheart? I could practically hear your teeth chattering all the way out there."

"It's just a storm," you mumbled back, feigning courage even though you both knew you his question had been rhetorical. However, you were relieved that he was here, and you settled into his embrace; you also didn't want to inconvenience him. "You go back out there. Finish your dinner."

"What dinner?" he snorted. "I was so hungry, I even ate the plate."

His fingers trilled at your side, trying to get a laugh out of you by force if you were not going to respond to his joke on your own. Terribly ticklish, you squirmed against him until you accidentally elbowed him in the gut.

"Oof, here I come to save you from Thor's wrath, and you inflict bodily harm upon me," he groaned. "I see I'm not welcome here—”

There was another flash outside and the thunder rumbled, closer this time, and you shouted, "No!" Then turned in his arms so you were facing him.

"Ah, there you are," he grinned and pulled you closer. He tucked your head under his chin so you could focus on the beat of his heart instead of the sounds of the weather outside. "Thought I was just gonna talk to the back of your head all night."

“I didn’t want to ruin your night,” you whispered.

“How’s it ruined? This is my favorite place to be.” He squeezed you and pulled the comforter higher over your shoulders. "My baby needs protecting, which I don’t get to do too often. I'll be here, proverbial sword and shield at the ready."

"You're still wearing your jeans." You reached down and pinched his denim clad thigh.

"Knight in scratchy armor," he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I've slept in my jeans before."

You both knew that you wouldn’t be falling back asleep with the storm rolling outside, so Eddie did what he knew he did best: he talked.

Told you about his day and his night. Told you about a new idea that he had for a campaign that would absolutely demolish the guys.

"You're smiling way too big," you accused him.

"You love me for my bloodlust, sweetheart."

There was an unexpected flash and boom outside that practically shook the walls around you; a few car alarms even went off outside your window. You shrunk deeper into Eddie's embrace and he pressed kisses to the crown of your head.

"Alright," he muttered. "What can I say to make you feel better? Angels bowling? Huh? What do you think? Saint Michael must've just bowled a 300. It's useless counting the seconds between the lightning and the thunder, I'm pretty sure the thunder got to us before the lightning did."

Rain pelted the side of the building and the window rattled again.

He started making a bunch of nonsense noises with his mouth, as loud as he dared considering your proximity. It took you a second to realizing he was mimicking the screeching sounds of his guitar. His fingers pressed into the side of your thigh like he was pressing against the strings on the fretboard.

"Won't you listen, cos I'm at it again," he sang softly. "Lightning striking and on that you can depend. Come on, it's your turn."

"I can't sing," you laughed.

"Good, then maybe you'll scare the storm away. Come on."

You muttered a soft fucker and then sang along with his "accompaniment."

"They say that lightning never strikes the same place twice," you took on a falsetto and winced at the pitchiness. But another roll of thunder made you ignore your embarrassment and sing louder. "Gods of thunder sit and watch the event."

There was another flash outside the window and Eddie pulled you so you both were standing on the bed. No, not just standing. Jumping, just like you would during one of his shows.

Together you sang.

"I won't stop rockin' all night, rockin' all night, until the lightning strikes again." Another resounding BOOM, and Eddie covered your ears with his hands as you kept jumping. "Rockin' all night, rockin' all night, until the lightning strikes again."

You both kept singing and jumping and air guitaring and headbanging, straight into an epic finale of your performance. Until finally...finally...you realized that it was silent outside.

No rain, no thunder, no wind.

The two of you collapsed back on the bed, laughing breathlessly. Eddie pressed kisses all over your face.

"We survived!!!" He exclaimed. "We lived."

"I'm surprised the bed survived," you chuckled. He leaned in close.

"It doesn’t have to,” he muttered suggestively. When you hit a hand against his chest he stuck his tongue in your ear, making you squeal. “Fine. If the bed’s a rockin’…we’re only chasing thunderstorms away.”

You snuggled close to him and gave him a soft kiss that he sighed and happily accepted. You nuzzled your nose against his once you pulled away for air.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whispered.

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Would take a the literal God of Thunder to keep me away.”

[flemingsfreckles]

Koala

Synopsis: you surprise your girlfriend at her game after not seeing each other for almost 3 months

Warnings: none this is soft and fluffy

WC: 1.2k

A/N: okay this is inspired off the fact that this woman loves jumping into her teammates arms as celebration, so I wanted to write a little blurb about it.

It wasn’t easy sneaking around Jessie. The girl was too smart, she knew you too well. You also hated lying to her, but sometimes you had to. It was less lying, and more withholding information about your plans and your whereabouts.

She didn’t know you were in Montréal, she didn’t even know you were in Canada. But you were, you had managed to take the flight from London to New York, scheduling it for when you knew your girlfriend would be asleep and unsuspecting of your lack of cell service. You had then sent her a casual good morning text, she suspected nothing.

You hadn’t seen Jessie in ten weeks. You had visited her in Portland shortly after her move but only stayed for a few days before you had to return to London for work. Leaving her was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Walking through the airport doors and looking back to see her bawling in the front seat of her car was the most gut wrenching sight. You had almost quit your job at that moment.

But you couldn’t quit your job, that wasn’t realistic. You know you would move in with Jessie eventually, the two of you had already lived together shortly in London, but with her career, the potential of her moving in the future, you weren’t sure where the two of you would end up so you stayed in London at your stable job for now. Except you weren’t in London anymore, you had taken a week off from work to come watch Jessie play two friendlies before getting to spend the rest of the week with her at her childhood home. Jessie didn’t know that of course, she knew she was playing two games and then getting to have a break at home.

It was easier to avoid Jessie on a game day. It was typical that you wouldn’t hear from Jessie until after the game with the exception of maybe a good morning text, she was busy, captains meetings, team meetings, warm ups, practice, pregame, team meals, it took up a lot of her time, and you knew that. It just so happened that while you usually miss her more on game days, having less communication, it was the perfect excuse to avoid texting her.

When you left your hotel that morning you had thrown on your Canada jersey, an old one of Jessie’s, a pair of jeans, a hat, and sunglasses. You planned to stay hidden, undercover, until the game was over, you didn’t want to distract Jessie with the surprise, so it seemed like the best option.

Ashley was the only person at the game who knew you were there. The two of you had met through Jessie and had become quick friends, you had simply sent her a photo of your boarding pass with the text ‘Don’t tell Jess.”. She promised she wouldn’t and expressed her excitement for you.

You started to feel nerves as you made your way to your seat, a bubble of excitement in your stomach. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to sit through 90 minutes with your girlfriend just feet away from you, but you figured it out. You watched the game, mainly your eyes following Jessie around the field, paying less attention to any of the other players. It was weird not seeing her in weeks and then being so close to her without her even knowing.

The game ended Canada up 1-0, you watched as your girlfriend made her way toward Janine and the two of them started to make their lap around, thanking the fans. That’s when Ashley took the chance to come over to you, waving you down and helping you over the railing onto the field.

She gives you a quick hug before putting you behind her. “Just follow me.” She says before walking off in the direction you assumed your girlfriend was. You removed your sunglasses and the hat you put on, not needing a disguise anymore. You followed Ashley as she brought you to the middle of the pitch.

“Stay there.” She said before taking a few steps away from you. She pointed in the direction of Jessie who was gathering her things from the bench. “Jessie!” She shouted.

You watched as your girlfriend picked up her head quickly turning to face where her name had been shouted. She threw her hands up questioning what Ashley wanted, clearly not paying attention to you standing next to her. It made you laugh, your girlfriend was usually so observant, but leave it to her to not notice you standing there. Helping the poor girl, Ashley turned, her arms stuck out in your direction as if she was presenting you to Jessie.

You watched Jessie’s jaw drops, along with everything in her hands, her phone, water bottle, shoes, coat all thrown to the ground. Janine turns at the sudden crash of all her belongings, looking and seeing you. Suddenly Jessie was sprinting at you, full speed, her arms out in your direction. As she got closer you could see the giant grin on her face and suddenly she was lunging at you, jumping and clinging to you. You stumbled back a few steps before regaining your balance. Jessie grabbed you tightly, her legs wrapping around your midsection as her arms looped around your neck, she held herself up for a moment before your arms wrapped around supporting her back and butt.

The two of you just stayed there for a moment, taking in the feeling of being back in each other's arms, her tight hold on you and the way you squeezed her impossibly closer into your chest. She had her face tucked into your neck, your chin rested on her shoulder.

“You’ve got yourself a koala.” Vanessa says from behind you, referring to how Jessie is clinging to you. “Good to see you by the way.” She says before patting your back and walking away.

“Oh my god.” You heard Jessie murmur into your neck. She had been silent since jumping onto you. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just in town, figured I’d say hi.” You jokingly say back to her. She releases the hold her legs have around your waist and puts them back on the ground, leaving her arms around your neck, pulling you slightly over as she stands looking up at you.

“You’re here.” She’s got tears in her eyes as she blinks up at you.

“I’m here.” You nod, knowing your eyes looked similar to hers, overwhelmed with the emotions that were rushing through your body. Feeling Jessie’s body under your hands, hearing her voice, the smell of her sweaty kit, it all held so much meaning behind it, so much worth to you, you loved this woman more than anything.

You bend down, placing a quick kiss to Jessie’s cheek, knowing she wasn’t a big fan of PDA you withhold your desire to have your lips on hers. Hearing an ‘awwww’ from the side you turn to see a handful of Jessie’s teammates looking at the two of you.

“Shut up.” Jessie says as she tucks her head into your side, hiding the obvious blush she had.

“Oh please Jess, you two are cute.” Ashley says. The two of you pull apart and you tell Jessie you’ll wait for her at her car before heading out so she can finish her postgame routine. You can’t help but smile to yourself when you hear Vanessa teasing Jessie as you walk away.

“You’re just like a little koala.”

She probably wasn’t going to live that nickname down anytime soon and you knew you’d be to blame but you really didn’t care, letting her jump into your arms was the best feeling on earth.

[hopelesslydevoted2paige]

GET HER BACK! || PAIGE BUECKERS

summary — after a week, nika invites you to go out with the team, giving paige an opportunity to make ammends

pairings: paige bueckers x fem cheerleader!reader

word count: 822

warnings: none

authors note: hii heres part 2 of casual!! i was gonna use ivy by frank ocean for this butttt i wanna save that for a more gut wrenching fic maybe series 🤓 ENJOY!!

part 1

It was a week since the events that had happened with Paige and you guys haven’t talked since.

Paige did try to reach out the next day, calling you multiple times but you refused to answer.

It was currently three in the afternoon. Your team had half of the court to use for practice while the other half belonged to the women’s basketball team.

“Alright, let’s run it one more time!” Your coach yelled as you all got into position.

The whole routine, you could feel Paige’s eyes on you. Her eyes scanned your body, watching your every move.

“Alright girls, let’s take five then get back into it right away!” Your coach clapped as everyone scattered towards the bleachers, trying to take advantage of the break.

You sat on the bleachers, trying to catch your breath before sipping your water.

“Hey girl!” Nika greeted as the whole team walked up to you. Including Paige.

You smiled warmly at her. “Hi! How’s practice?”

“You know coach, always up in our ass during the season.” You both chuckled. “You were great out there! Right Paige?” She nudged her shoulder forcefully.

“Yeah. You were amazing.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Thanks.”

KK cleared her throat. “We were wondering if you wanted to go out with us tonight?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know-“

“Come on!” Aaliyah butt in. “We miss you.” The rest of the team agreed behind her.

You sighed, giving in. “Alright. Just send me the details later.”

“I was also wondering if we could talk?” Paige whispered as her teammates cheered and conversed on their own, the two of you going unnoticed by the others.

“Paige, I don’t think-“ You were cut off by the sound of your coach’s whistle.

“Did I say five hours?! Wrap it up and let’s run it again!”

—

“Hey Y/N!” Nika greeted you, giving you a warm hug. You could tell she was already tipsy.

“Hi Nika.” You giggled, making eye contact with Paige as you returned the hug. You could see her jaw clench once her teammate started to rub your back.

You were going to have a lot of fun with this.

You sat next to Nika, grateful she got the imaginary memo as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Y/N!” Azzi spoke up. “You guys have nationals in a few weeks don’t you?”

You nod eagerly. “Coach has been pushing us a lot lately, we might have to be sharing the court a lot more for the next few weeks.”

“That’s fine with me!” Nika smirked. “I get to see you a lot more then.” She pulled you closer with her arm.

“Nika, you are so drunk.” You giggled, playing with her hair in hopes that Paige would notice the two of you.

The blonde wasn’t having it. She stood up and stomped towards the two of you.

“Y/N, can we talk?” She clenched her jaw.

“Uh-“ You faced Nika who motioned for you to go. “Yeah whatever.”

You stood up, following Paige to the exit, smirking to yourself.

Paige turned to face you. “Since when were you and Nika a thing?”

You scoffed. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

“No! I just-“ She groaned. “Nevermind. I wanted to apologize for everything I said that night. I didn’t mean any of it.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds. “Was that really what I meant to you? Just having fun-?”

“No!” She put her head in her hands. “This past week has been hell for me. I missed you so bad and I didn’t even realize the effect you had on me until all my friends pointed it out.”

“But-“

“Let me finish. You can say anything you want if your opinion stays the same.” She runs her fingers through her long blonde hair. “You actually cared about me, about my feelings. You were there for me when no one else was! You made me laugh and feel like I was actually worth something. And all I did, was make you feel like you were taken advantage of, and I am so fucking sorry. There��s no one else for me Y/N. Just you.”

You were in shock. You couldn’t process the words that just came out of her mouth. “Paige, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything.” She took a step back. “You can take all the time you need. I’ll still be here waiting-“

You cut her off by wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her with all your emotions.

You could feel her grin as she kissed you back, pulling you closer as she wrapped her arms around your waist.

“Be my girlfriend?” She grinned.”

“I gotta think about it.” You teased, furrowing your brows to make it look like you were thinking.

Paige rolled her eyes. “What a tease.”

“Should we go back inside?” You asked once you both pulled away.

“We can go to my dorm. I think I might kill Nika if she puts her hands on you one more time.”

“You were jealous!”

“No I wasn’t!”

[crownofgildedlilies]

snowmen

pairing: s. todoroki x reader summary: Shouto can’t quite understand the point of making snowmen, but he’s still having fun.  wc: 1.3k event masterlist

Dating was hard. 

There was so much to understand about a person, both before and after you committed to them. Fitting a new person into your schedule, balancing old routines while creating new ones. Meshing personalities to create a dynamic that not only worked but thrived. 

Relationships were work. 

But dating Shouto Todoroki meant not only dealing with the typical growing pains of a new relationship, but understanding that he was raised differently than most others. 

At the start of your relationship, when Shouto first began opening up to you about his childhood with Endeavor, it was hard. You could barely reconstruct the idea you had about the long time number two hero with the abusive asshole Shouto told you about. You were so angry on his behalf, and for so long. 

But that anger wasn’t helpful. It wasn’t going to change anything. 

Not to say you no longer despised Endeavor—no, you still refused to even look at him on rare events when you crossed paths when Shouto took you to visit his family. But you turned your hatred for Endeavor into affection for Shouto, and took it upon yourself to make sure he never felt as alone as he did in his childhood. 

And maybe you had another goal of making sure he made up for lost memories, too. 

“Sho, you’re going to be too cold,” You fussed, frowning at your boyfriend as he lingered by the door while you finished dressing for the snow outside. The dorms were surprisingly quiet for a Saturday, but you could only assume that everyone was off preparing for the rapidly encroaching holidays. 

“I believe I’ll be fine,” Shouto quelled your worry with a smile, a little teasing because of course he’d be fine—he could regulate his body temperature with his flames, if needed. Still, you chewed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating any consequences of letting him just use his quirk if he got uncomfortably cold. 

But you didn’t want him to get to the point that he was uncomfortable, at all. 

“C’mere,” You ordered, grabbing his scarf from the surprisingly organized coat closet. Shouto followed your command, stepping closer and ducking his head slightly to allow you to wrap the scarf around his neck carefully. You worked dutifully to make sure he was warm, even going so far as buttoning up his jacket for him. 

Though, that part was hard with fumbling fingers under his always intense stare. It didn’t matter how many months you had been together, he always found a way to make you flustered. 

“Are we all set, now?” He asked, taking his turn to appraise you and make sure that you were dressed appropriately warm. You shook your head quickly, but before he could ask what was missing, you darted forward to kiss him quickly. 

“Now we’re good,” You hummed victoriously, smiling at your sweet boyfriend who always humored your dramatics. Turning towards the door, you slipped your gloved hand in his and led him outside. 

A fresh layer of heavy snow had fallen overnight, and you had been practically jumping with giddiness as you woke up Shouto to beg him to join outside. He had agreed easily, for the low price of your love and affection, which you would have given him regardless. 

“What exactly are we doing out here?” Shouto questioned as you marched the two of you into the snow bank that made up the front yard of Class 1A’s dorm building. 

“Have you ever made a snowman?” You knew better than to assume that he had, especially since his very life until he came to UA was incredibly sheltered. You watched as he shook his head gently, and you couldn’t help but press another kiss to his slowly chilling lips. 

“I’ve seen them before. Fuyumi and Natsuo would make them in the courtyard, but I was forbidden from joining them.” He explained calmly, like it wasn’t a heart wrenching confession. Frowning, you set a gloved hand on his cheek, thumb brushing against the lower edge of his scar. As always, he leaned into your touch. 

“Well, I’m going to fix that.” You assured him, face warming despite the cold as he delicately held your wrist with one hand to press a kiss to the heel of your palm despite the glove keeping him from your skin. The longer you were together, the more comfortable he was in showing affection instead of just returning it. 

“I’m not sure I know where to start.” He confessed, and you smiled teasingly at him before tugging him into a crouch beside you. 

“First, you have to make a snowball. Then we roll it around so it collects more snow until we have the base of the snowman.” You explained, digging your hands into the fresh snow to pack together a decent starting point. Instantly, nostalgia tore through you with all the times you had made a snowman as a child. 

A fresh wave of anger towards Endeavor washed over you as you realized that Shouto didn’t have happy memories like you did. 

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if I used my quirk?” Shouto’s voice dragged you back from the edge of your anger, and the genuine curiosity in his voice made you giggle. For a moment, he looked between you and the snow like he was trying to find the best way of attacking the problem.

“You’re not thinking of the fun.” You assured him, jutting out your hand with the ball of snow meant to be the base. Carefully, Shouto took it from you, and examined it like it was a complex piece of technology. 

“We would still have a snowman.” He reasoned, but you rolled your eyes playfully at his stoicism. 

“It’d be an iceman.” You teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek to soothe the burn of your rejection of his idea. Sometimes, it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious, but you had a feeling that he was genuinely trying to find the fastest way to accomplish your goal. “It’s better making it the hard way. Besides, don’t you like spending time with me?”

“Of course I do. Why would you think otherwise?” You should have known that he wouldn’t have gotten your teasing. You felt a little guilty, especially as you spotted the frown he wore at your supposed suggestion.

“I’m just joking, Sho,” You assured him, gently squeezing his arm for extra measure. “Start rolling the base, will you? I’ll make the middle part.” 

It went smoothly from there, constructing the snowman and decorating it with random articles of clothing from the both of you. The scarf you had tied diligently around Shouto’s neck before you went outside, the gloves that kept your fingers warm, a hat you had been gifted. The face was made out of stones dug out from near the porch of the dorms and a carrot borrowed from Sato’s rabbit, and though it was a little wobbly, you adored it. 

“I think it looks cute,” You grinned, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them to warm them up as you and Shouto admired your masterpiece. He stood behind you, and without you needing to ask, he wrapped his arms around you and trapped your hands between his. 

“The face looks weird,” Shouto admitted, and you snorted a laugh at his brutal honesty. Nodding, you pressed a kiss against your conjoined hands in silent agreement. You felt his chin tuck over your shoulder and rest there, and you could do nothing but enjoy his close proximity. “I’m glad we did this. Thank you, love.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

He didn’t need to say the words. You would have made a million snowmen with him if he had asked. 

Dating was hard, controlling your anger towards Endeavor was harder. 

But you did it all and more for Shouto.

[pedriache]

Merry Christmas, I miss you 𖦹 Quinn Hughes !

summary. quinn was back home for christmas and all he could think about was you. his highschool sweetheart. one he hadn’t seen in a very long time. but now, with the holiday bringing you both home… whats a better time to rekindle what once was?

wc. 1.39k+

disclaimers. ex’s that left off on good terms, fluff, reader being slightly awkward & this may be a little ooc but IDC IDC.. also reader went to college for something unspecified.

notes. i had two drafts for this idea but i liked this one better lolsss.. also i fucking decided i hated this but i also am just like whatever i need it out of the drafts!

Quinn’s fingers hovered over the green button. He had been sitting on the living room couch, chewing on his lip for about thirty minutes now. His mom had informed him that you were back in town for the Holiday’s. Your mother had stopped her at the grocery store to chat, and you’d rounded the corner. Ellen practically raced home to inform her son.

Jack and Luke sat on chairs not far from their older brother, both sharing equally as annoyed looks.

“Man, just press the button.” Jack grumbled, sinking into the chair, his foot tapping the ground impatiently.

Quinn’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing on his brother before they flickered back to his phone. “It’s not that easy. What if she has a boyfriend now and I—“

Before he could finish his sentence, Luke shot up from the couch, passing the distance in a few long strides. The youngest Hughe’s brother wrenched the phone from his brother’s tight grasp, not giving Quinn a second to retaliate, he presses the button.

Ring.. Ring..

“Hello?”

Quinn glared heatedly up at Luke as the curly haired boy grinned, handing the phone back to his brother. Jack stood from the chair, nodding his head toward the door for Luke to follow and give Quinn space.

Clearing his throat, Quinn’s mouth parted. Shit, shit, shit. What did he get himself into? What did Luke get him into?

“Uhm.. Quinn?” God, your voice was still as sweet and melodic as the last time he’d heard from you. The small hint of a smile in your voice was the thing had gave Quinn the strength to reply.

And, you still had his number saved.

“Hey, yeah, sorry. Hi!” He sunk into the couch, free hand rubbing his thigh in a comforting motion. “Heard you were back in town?”

Shuffling was heard on the other end before a soft sight left your lips. “Yep! Are you here too?” There was something in your voice, something hesitant that raised a hint of concern in Quinn.

Did you have a boyfriend? If so, that would explain it. Not wanting to hear from your ex.. what was he doing!?

“Yeah, yeah. Just for a few days. How’ve you been?” He really should just get the question that’s been nagging at his mind for hours now.

On the other end, your heart was slamming into your chest. You’d always been shy, even in high school. The only reason you had a friend group was because of Quinn. He’d helped you come out of your shell.

But now? Now he was your ex, a famous hockey player, and incredibly good looking. Why wouldn’t you be a little shy?

“Good. Been good! College is tiring, but worth it..” A pause, “How are you?”

Quinn felt a smile pushing at his lips despite himself. “I’ve been alright! Listen, I really gotta ask..” Now or never, Hughes. Now or— “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Choking. That’s all Quinn heard, even when you so clearly moved the phone away from your face. “I—Uh, I, well— no. No, no, I don’t. Sorry! That caught me a but off guard!”

A laugh slipped out of the brunettes lips, his head dipping with a low shake. “No, it’s my bad. I should’ve eased that question in. Just.. didn’t want to overstep.”

Once you’f collected yourself, did you allow a small chuckle to escape your lips. Red blossomed on your cheeks and you’d never been so grateful for it being over the phone.

If this had happened face to face? Well, you might be in the hospital for passing out from sheer humiliation.

“You aren’t overstepping anything, Quinn. I promise.” You stood from your seat, walking toward the kitchen to get yourself some water.

Quinn waited a second to speak, not wanting to seem too eager—he couldn’t scare you off just yet. “Good. We should catch up, soon. The cafe on main street is still open, you liked their espresso’s if I remember correctly.”

He did remember correctly. As if Quinn could forget anything pertaining to you. You liked it with an extra shot, claiming it was necessary or your whole day would be off. Not that you needed more energy, you’d always seemed to have an endless supply of that.

The Hughe’s man supposed that’s what he’d loved the most about you. Your energetic side that made it easy for him to sit back and relax while you took over the conversations.

“You remember very correctly.” You laugh lightly, “and, I’d love that. When are you free?”

Quinn sat up straight, smiling. Then, he turned his head, noticing his brother’s peeking over the corner. Their eyes widened and their heads disappeared.

He had to hold back the groan as he turned his attention back to the woman he was on the phone with. “Right now, if you are.”

“Oh! Oh, give me thirty minutes to get ready. I can drive—“

“I’ll pick you up. My brothers are here and they are being.. well, them.”

You nod in understanding, forgetting he couldn’t see you. A grin tugs at your lips as you imagine the younger Hughe’s boys being oh-so-nosey.

“Alright. I’m staying at my parents. Come whenever, I’m sure they’d love to see you.” And with that, you both said your goodbye’s and you sprinted to your room.

When Quinn did arrive at your house, nerves wracked his body. His stomach churned at the realization he was about to see you after so many years. Sure, he still followed you on Instagram.. but you didn’t exactly have a big social media presence.

The click of the door opening had the mans back straightening, pulse quickening in his throat like he was a high schooler all over again.

And when he saw you, his breath hitched in his throat. You looked so much more mature, somehow even more beautiful than the last time he’d seen you.

Yes, four years had passed since he’d seen you in person. But this was.. well, he forgot how to speak. The flowers in his hand long since forgotten.

“Grip those any tighter and you might snap the stems.” You spoke quietly, teasingly. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you watched him blink, his throat bobbing. Was that a stupid joke?

Then, he laughed. And you saw that he was the same Quinn you’d loved all those years ago. His cheeks puffing and his head shaking.

His grip loosened on the flowers, his arm sticking out to give them to you. You took them gratefully, cheeks flushed as you murmured a thank you.

Quinn shifted on his feet as you brought the flowers up to smell them. “You look beautiful.”

Your eyes paused on the flowers before slowly lifting to meet his. You didn’t think it was possible for your face to get any warmer, but here it was. Ablaze.

“Thank you! So do—well, I meant—“ Your mouth clamps shut. “You look handsome.” It came out gritted which caused Quinn’s lips to twitch.

Setting the flowers on a table beside the door, you grab your purse and step outside. The cold air cooling you down and stifling your humiliation. The walk to Quinn’s car was brief, thankfully.

Inside, you settled into the seat. You really needed to control yourself, this awkward vibe seeping off of you was only making you more embarrassed.

As if nothing had changed, Quinn disconnected from bluetooth and turned to you with a loose grin. And just like that, you were back in high school again, refusing to go anywhere until you gained control over the music.

Your mouth quirked as you pulled out your phone. “Always a gentleman, Hughes.” You tease lightly, which was met with a short chuckle. That simple sound shot something so familiar through your chest.

Your fingers hovered over the song you were about to play, when your eyes flitted back to Quinn. He was looking at you still, his lips pulled into a small smile. And you knew that what you were feeling wasn’t just a one way street.

“I missed you.” He spoke quietly. His eyes softened as they moved around your face like he was trying to memorize every new detail to store beside the old ones.

Tearing your eyes from him, you press play. “I missed you too.”

likes, comments, & reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any or all of my posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @spidybaby @joaoflms @sakashq @be11ingham @piastri-fvx

[meanbossart]

Hey, I was wondering if you had any starter tips for digital art? I'm a traditional artist and have been for years, but I was recently given a tablet and clip studio. I am having SUCH a hard time getting anything to look right: shaky lines, flat/too soft pieces, just an absolute childish mess every single time. I see all these gorgeous digital pieces and have NO IDEA how to get there.

Heya!

So, it's been a very very long time since I transitioned from traditional to digital art, but I DID do proper traditional for a few years; we're talking ink pens, color pencils, markers, watercolor, fancy papers, the works. I did some acrylic painting too but only monochrome (and before anyone asks, these works no longer exist so I can't share them) all that to say that I do have some experience with the former and definitely felt the learning curve when I changed to a tablet.

To get the unhelpful advice out of the way first: It's a different and unfamiliar medium, and there is probably nothing significant that you're "missing" about it except time and exploration. There are pillars to digital art just like there are in traditional art, but when it comes to personal process everyone has their quirks and habits - you gotta mess around and find what works for you. I suggest looking up tutorials and speedpaints on youtube even if you know all the basics or if the style you see doesn't appeal to you; just watching how others do their thing might help you figuring out how you would like to do yours!

Now, for the more practical advice:

-I don't know what kind of tablet you got, but assuming it's a non display, that's an extra hurdle you have to get over in developing the eye-hand coordination necessary to use it. This feels very alien at first but it shouldn't take longer than a few weeks to feel completely natural.

-On that note, if there is a significant size discrepancy between the tablet and the screen you are looking at, that might mess you up. Try adjusting the size of the CSP window so it fits the size of the actual drawing surface you are using more closely.

-Every drawing tablet's pen has pressure settings that can be tweaked to your liking, I for one always make it a little softer than the default.

-BRUSH STABILIZATION! That's a setting every individual brush (and almost every tool, I believe) on CSP has. It does as advertised: stabilizes your brush strokes. A lot of people like this set between 8-20 depending on the brush, and it can make a huge difference to the way you draw.

It is usually always visible in the tool properties, but if not, you can toggle it on through the "sub tool details" menu by clicking the little wrench symbol on the bottom right.

Hopefully this has been helpful at all. Good luck!

[muzansslxt]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

tartilgaxreader

summary: Childe grows tired of your avoidance towards him and decides to teach you a lesson ;)

warnings: mature themes, MINORS DNI

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You had been avoiding Childe like an illness all week and oh was he fucking pissed about it.

But finally, by the grace of the gods themselves it seemed, you agreed to come over.

Maybe you were nervous to see Childe, whatever it was he had grown tired of the cat and mouse game.

He wanted you now, wanted you so fucking bad he could practically taste your cunny on his tounge.

And there you were in his home, finally.

Fuck.

He knew it was wrong, knew it was so wrong but did he care? No. No he fucking didn’t.

That’s why he had you pressed into his mattress, ass up while he mercilessly plunging his thick length into your greedy cunt.

One hand had a firm grip on your hair, shoving your face into his pillows harshly.

The other was tugging and playing with your puffy clit, already sore and aching from his brutal treatment.

Your lungs were screaming for air, the pillow blocking your mouth, muffled moans and crys danced to his ears and he grunted in satisfaction.

“You fucking bitch..hah..thinkin you can play around with me? Huh?” He sneered, his tip bullying itself against your cervix.

Your vision was getting spotty, no matter how loud you tried to scream it wasn’t loud enough.

Suddenly he pulled your body flush against his chest, you gasped and nearly chocked on the sudden rush of oxygen that filled your lungs.

Tears were already rushing down your cheeks, a sob wrenched out of your mouth and you swore you felt him get harder inside of you.

“Please s-stop.” You whimpered, a hoarse cry leaving your lips and he slapped your clit.

You flinched, trying to curl in on yourself but Childe had moved his hand to the base of your throat and squeezed warningly.

He shushed you with a gentle tone but picked up his pace, balls slapping your sweat soaked skin and his hold on your neck tightening ever so slightly.

“Please.” You tried again, sobbing uncontrollably as your insides felt like they were on fire, your tits bounced in rhythm with his thrusts.

“You brought this on yourself y/n. I’m a patient man but you’ve played one to many games with me.” He growled lowly in your ear.

Your body began to feel tingly, your skin crawling with the building euphoria that pooled in your lower tummy.

You were so close and Childe knew it.

Your insides began to hug around his length tightly, each of your slippery rings holding his cock hostage inside of you made his balls swell with an undeniable urge to cum.

“M’sorry.” You managed to mewl out, drool began pooling outside of your mouth but the blissful pleasure hitting your body sweetly made you care less.

Childe rumbled a low chuckle through his chest which vibrated against your back deliciously, it felt as though every nerve through out your body was burning for release.

“So close..” You managed to whisper as Childes pace grew slower, and slower.

“Oh really?” He cooed in a teasing tone, his teeth grazing along your shoulder before placing a small kiss on the crook of your neck.

You nod pleadingly while your cunt began to throb in an almost painful manner, silently screaming at you for its release.

“You hurt my feelings y/n, I’ve missed you this whole week and you continued to avoid me. You wound me you know, why would you hide from me?” He murmured while running his hands over your breasts, nipples hard as rocks under his warm fingers.

A shiver ran through your body as you felt his cock rub along your swollen bundle of nerves.

Your mind was clouded with lust and a fiery need for Childes length plunging back into your dripping cunny.

“I w-was busy with training, and I’ve just been so tired. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” You whimpered back softly.

Childe was silent for a moment, his lips pressed gently to your neck before trailing over your shoulders.

“You could never disappoint me.” He murmured while his warm hands glided down to your waist.

His lips continued to pepper your skin softly before his cock abruptly slammed its way inside of you.

A fiery pain coursed through your vains, making you cry out in such a sweet manner it nearly made Childe cum.

“Although you could never disappoint me y/n, I do enjoy thoroughly punishing you.” He growled lowly as he began to rut himself deep in the warm embrace of your cunny.

“Baby- Please- h-ho fuck.” You whined out, the knot in your tummy burned deliciously as Childe continued to grip your hips tightly, his eyes glued to the lewd expressions your face made.

“Touch yourself for me.” He cooed lowly, leaning his head down so he could be even closer to you. His pace had grown sloppy and you knew he was ready to burst.

Your hand shyly traveled between your legs to the sweet bundle of nerves that practically begged to be touched, rubbing your clit in gentle circles your breath quickened.

“Look at me when you cum y/n.” He groaned while sweat began beading along his ginger hairline, the sight was enough for you to arch up into him and release around his length.

“Oh gods.” You breathed as pure euphoria ripped through your body, your face was enough to send Childe over the edge, who promptly dumped his seed deep inside of you.

All was quiet for a moment except the both of your laboured breaths filling the room, your body tingled sweetly as you turned your head to look at your lover.

Childe smirked at you for a moment before reaching his hand over your waist to pull you flush against his own body “We’re not done yet y/n.” He purred lowly, hand already reaching for your overstimulated cunny.

“Your punishments just getting started~”

[iraot]

Did You Even Think | s.r

pairing steve rogers x small!reader word count 4,277 a/n gif credit - this  fic did not come to me in one go like my original a/n said, in fact it sat in my drafts since 2022. :) yeah so here you go - its finished. I might have missed a few tags but its all pretty basic stuff. :3 Hope you enjoy. warnings angst, dom/sub dynamics, 1st time in relationship, innocence kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), domestic kink, hair pulling, 18+ only, size kink, age gap

She and Steve had been together for just over four months now, and though their relationship was solid in many ways, a gnawing doubt had started to creep into her mind. Sweet kisses, lingering touches, the warmth of his hand resting at the small of her back—these were all constants. But the moment things threatened to turn into something more, something deeper, he pulled away. Not harshly, not with rejection in his eyes, but with a quiet, almost reverent hesitation that left her feeling unspoken words pressing between them like a wall.

They’d talked about a lot since the battle with Thanos—what they wanted out of life now that the fighting was done. When Steve returned the Stones and finally let the weight of the shield slip from his grasp, he told her he was ready for something real. A normal life. A simple life. He’d grown out his beard again, rough and golden in the sunlight, because Captain America had been clean-shaven, and Steve Rogers wanted to be anything but him now. The mantle belonged to Sam Wilson, and Steve had no interest in reclaiming it. The idea of picking up the shield again felt wrong when all he wanted was apple-pie Sundays and lazy mornings tangled in sheets.

So why did it feel like he was still holding back?

She thought about the night before, how his kisses had deepened, how she had pressed herself against him, fingers curling into the fabric of his Henley, heart hammering with the silent question—Will you stay? Maybe this would finally be the moment he let go. Maybe he’d touch her the way she ached to be touched. But instead, he stiffened, pulled back, and then practically leapt off the couch like it had burned him.

"I—I gotta go," he stammered, pressing a final kiss to her forehead before grabbing his jacket.

She barely had time to process it before the door clicked shut behind him.

Now, hours later, the rational part of her told her there had to be a reason. Maybe something was weighing on him. Maybe he was struggling with the idea of moving forward. Maybe—maybe. But the darker voice in her mind whispered crueler thoughts: He doesn’t want you. Not like that. He never will.

She busied herself at the lab, preparing tools for Bucky’s usual tune-up. The Winter Soldier—no, Bucky Barnes, as he liked to remind people now—strode in, rolling his shoulder like the vibranium arm had a crick in it.

"Alright," he said, narrowing his eyes at her silence. "What’s going on?"

She glanced up at him. Bucky wasn’t one to dance around things. He was blunt, cutting, and she should’ve known he’d pick up on the fact that she wasn’t her usual self.

"It’s nothing," she mumbled, adjusting the wrench in her hands. "Just… stupid."

Bucky snorted. "Bullshit. Talk to me." He plopped down in his usual seat, watching her with the same sharp stare that had once made HYDRA operatives piss themselves.

She exhaled through her nose, then finally admitted, "I think Steve’s going to end things."

Bucky’s expression didn’t shift at first, but then his brows pinched together, his mouth pulling into something between confusion and annoyance. "The hell are you talking about? He doesn’t shut up about you."

That made her pause. "What?"

Bucky leaned forward, resting his metal arm on his knee. "You kidding? Every time we get together, it’s ‘She said this funny thing at dinner’ or ‘You should’ve seen the way she kicked my ass at chess’ or ‘Do you think she’d like this book?’ If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re the only thing running through that punk’s head."

Her throat tightened, her fingers gripping the wrench harder. "Then why does he act like I’m radioactive? Why does he barely stay for an hour when we have date night? Last night, I didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he bolted, mumbling something about paperwork."

Bucky shook his head, clearly baffled. "That doesn’t make sense."

"Tell me about it," she muttered.

He stared at her for a moment, then pulled out his phone. "Text him."

She blinked. "What?"

"Ask him to lunch," Bucky said, already tapping away at his own screen.

She knew what this was. She’d done the same thing before with a friend who thought their boyfriend was dodging them. If Steve replied to Bucky and not her, well… that would tell her all she needed to know.

"Bucky..."

"Just do it." His tone was firm. "If he ignores you and texts me back, I swear to God, I’ll rip him a new one."

She sighed, but her fingers moved before she could stop them. Hey, want to grab lunch today?

A minute later, Bucky sent his own message.

They waited.

Her message sat, cold and blue. Read. No reply.

Bucky’s phone buzzed immediately. He turned the screen toward her, and her stomach twisted.

Steve: Sure. The lobby’s got a great menu.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Oh, that motherf—"

She looked away, swallowing hard, ignoring the sting behind her eyes. Maybe she really had been fooling herself. Maybe Captain America had saved the world, but Steve Rogers didn’t have the courage to love her back.

Her bottom lip trembled, and she sniffed, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes before the tears could fully fall. This was it her worst fear staring her in the face. If Steve Rogers, the Steve Rogers, couldn’t want her, then who the hell could?

“Hey...” Bucky’s voice was softer than usual, a rare gentleness lacing the edges as he pulled her into his arms, rubbing slow circles along her back. “None of that, alright? I’ll talk to him… we’ll straighten this out.”

“And if..”

“If he wants to end things,” Bucky cut in, “then we’ll figure that out too. But I gotta hear his side before I knock some sense into his star-spangled ass.”

His dry humor forced a snicker out of her despite everything, and she wiped at her eyes, nodding.

She motioned toward his arm, and he let her go so she could get to work. But her mind was elsewhere—dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. This could be the end of her relationship, and her career in one fell swoop. If Steve broke it off, what then? The Avengers Compound wasn’t exactly known for its clean breakups. Would she have to pack up her desk? Start over somewhere else, if she could even find a job in her field again?

The rest of the day crawled by in a haze. No word from Bucky. Nothing from Steve. The old saying—"No news is good news"—didn’t cut it today. It never had.

By the time she packed up for the night, she had checked her phone so many times that the ghost of the screen lingered behind her eyelids. Still no texts. Still left on read. Even from Bucky.

Her heart pounded as she stepped inside her apartment, tossing her keys onto the counter. The silence was thick, oppressive. She scrubbed a hand down her face, exhaling.

“Took you longer than usual.”

Steve’s voice.

She yelped, spinning on instinct, hand flying to her chest as her heart tried to beat its way out of her ribs. “Jesus, Steve! What the hell?!”

Her pulse hammered, anger rising to mask the anxiety. He knew she hated being startled. If he wanted to talk, he could’ve waited with the damn lights on, or sat on the couch like a normal person instead of lurking in the dark like some super-soldier cryptid.

He turned the lamp on, and for the first time, she saw the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed like he was barely keeping himself together. Good. Let him squirm. He was the one who had been avoiding her, not the other way around.

“Bucky talked to me today,” he started, voice level but heavy. “Said you seemed really upset. You wanna tell me why?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she hung up her purse. “Oh, don’t do that. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Steve exhaled sharply through his nose but stayed silent, watching her. She hated that unreadable expression, the one that made her feel like she was talking to a wall.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she continued, voice rising with every word. “And not just today. Not just this morning when you completely ignored my text. This has been happening for weeks. You ignore me, you leave in a rush like you can’t stand to be near me, and you never stay longer than you have to.”

Steve nodded as she spoke, like he was absorbing her words, but she wasn’t sure if he was actually listening or just waiting for her to get it all out.

Her throat was tight now, but she pushed through. “So if you’re gonna end things, just do it. I don’t like waiting in limbo. I don’t like sitting here, wondering what I did wrong, what I did to make you pull away. I hate this, Steve.”

He exhaled, rubbing at his beard. His silence stretched between them like a chasm before he finally spoke.

“I was doing what was best for you.” His voice was rough. “If… if you knew the things I think about you, you’d want me gone.”

Something in her stomach twisted. 

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Do you even realize what you do to me?” His voice was low now, raw. His hands flexed at his sides, like he was restraining himself. “I haven’t been able to think straight for days. Can’t eat. Can’t focus. I sure as hell can’t sit across from you at lunch when all I can think about is you on your knees—”

He stopped himself with a grunt, rubbing a hand down his face like the thought physically hurt him.

Her breath hitched. That… definitely wasn’t where she thought this was going.

“You what?” she whispered.

Steve took a step forward, and instinct had her stepping back until her spine met the wall behind her. His eyes were dark now, sharp with determination. There was something else in them too, something that made heat pool between her thighs before he even touched her.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you,” he admitted, voice low and thick with restraint. “But I knew if I didn’t leave when I did… I’d ruin you, sweetheart.”

A shiver rolled down her spine. She clenched her thighs, pulse hammering. 

“How?”

His nostrils flared, and then he was on her.

His hand slid up her cheek, fingers curling against the side of her neck, tilting her face up to meet his. Then his lips crashed against hers hard, messy, all teeth and heat and barely-contained desperation.

She gasped into his mouth, hands fisting into his shirt. He didn’t hesitate grabbing the hem, yanking it over his head, and tossing it to the floor like it was offending him.

“This is the last time,” he murmured against her throat, his voice a gravel rasp. 

“After this…” His teeth grazed the sensitive skin beneath her ear, making her whimper. “…you’re mine.”

The words sent molten heat flooding through her, soaking her panties before she could stop it.

“Steve, please..”

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, pressing her into the wall as his hands palmed her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her moan.

She barely registered him moving before she landed in the middle of the bed, breathless.

Steve stood at the foot of it, eyes dark, his gaze dragging over her like he could see straight through her clothes.

“Jesus,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Oh, she had a damn good idea.

Steve was breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling as he looked at her sprawled out on the bed—her hair wild, her chest heaving, lips swollen from his kiss.

"Take this off," he ordered, voice hoarse, fingers twitching at his sides.

She swallowed hard, hands fumbling at the hem of her shirt. Steve didn’t move as she pulled it over her head, exposing bare skin to the cool air. She had barely tossed it aside before he was on her again, pinning her to the mattress with his weight.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he muttered, his hands sliding up her body, mapping her like he needed to memorize every inch. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this."

Her breath hitched as his mouth descended on her throat, lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her pulse. She arched into him, pressing her body against his, feeling the heat of his skin and the hard planes of muscle beneath it.

"Then why did you keep pulling away?" she whispered, fingers threading through his hair, nails raking against his scalp.

Steve groaned, his teeth grazing her collarbone before he pulled back to meet her gaze. His pupils were blown, his expression wrecked with barely-contained hunger.

"Because I knew," he admitted, his hand sliding down, fingers tracing the band of her leggings before slipping beneath it. "Knew if I let myself have you, I wouldn't stop."

She gasped as his fingers brushed over her soaked panties, his touch feather-light, teasing.

"And now?" she asked breathlessly, barely able to form words as he pressed his palm against her, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm.

Steve exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes darkening further.

"Now," he murmured, voice rough with conviction, "I don’t give a damn."

His patience snapped like a frayed wire. In one swift movement, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down, dragging her panties with them. She barely had time to process before he settled between her thighs, his broad hands gripping her hips to keep her still.

"Goddamn," he rasped, eyes locked on her as if he’d never seen anything so devastating in his life. "You’re perfect."

Heat flooded her cheeks, but she barely had time to be embarrassed before his mouth was on her, tongue sliding between her folds in a slow, deliberate stroke that sent shockwaves through her entire body.

She cried out, fingers tangling in his hair as he groaned against her, like he was the one being undone.

"You taste like heaven," he muttered against her, voice muffled, lips dragging over her in a way that had her hips bucking against his mouth. "Better than I ever let myself imagine."

She moaned his name, thighs trembling against his shoulders as he sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking over her with devastating precision. Her body was burning, heat pooling deep in her belly, pressure building too fast.

"Steve," she gasped.

His grip tightened on her hips, keeping her firmly against his mouth. "Let go, sweetheart," he ordered, voice rough. "Give it to me."

Her body obeyed before her mind did white-hot pleasure crashing over her as she shattered beneath him, her back arching, her cries muffled by her own gasping breaths.

Steve groaned as she came against his tongue, lapping her up like he needed it, like he was starving.

When she finally slumped against the mattress, boneless, he pressed one last lingering kiss against her thigh before pulling himself up, his lips shining with the evidence of what he’d done.

His expression was wrecked, his jaw tight with restraint, but his voice was steady when he spoke.

"I meant what I said." He leaned down, caging her beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress. "You’re mine now."

Her breath hitched, a fresh wave of heat rolling through her at the sheer certainty in his tone.

"Then show me," she whispered.

Steve groaned, dragging her into another bruising kiss as he reached down, undoing his belt with one hand. Steve’s belt hit the floor with a dull thud, and she barely had time to breathe before he was over her again, his weight pinning her down, his mouth consuming hers with a hunger that felt like it had been caged for years.

Her fingers scrambled against his back, tracing over thick muscle as he settled between her thighs, his clothed hardness pressing against her slick heat. He was big—she could feel it even through the fabric of his jeans, the pressure sending a thrill up her spine.

His lips ghosted over her jaw, down her neck, his breath hot as he growled, "You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her head up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

There was something feral in his eyes—something dark and starved. Possession.

Her breath hitched as he dragged his free hand down her stomach, his fingertips barely grazing her overly-sensitive skin before dipping between her thighs. She was soaked, and Steve felt it.

"Fuck," he groaned, his jaw clenching as his fingers slid through her wetness, teasing, testing. "You were made for me, weren’t you?"

She whimpered, bucking against his touch, desperate for more, but he didn’t give it to her—not yet. His fingers moved slowly, deliberate, just barely dipping inside before retreating, smearing her arousal over her swollen clit.

"Steve," she gasped, frustration lacing her voice as she tried to move her hips, but his other hand pressed firmly against her stomach, holding her down.

"Be patient, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her jaw. "I wanna take my time with you."

A whimper left her lips as he dipped his head, trailing hot kisses down her throat, his mouth searing against her flushed skin. He was moving like a man determined to devour her, to imprint himself into every inch of her body.

"Tell me you want this," he rasped, his voice shaking with restraint, like he was this close to snapping.

She shivered beneath him, her fingers threading into his hair as she pulled him closer. "I want this. I want you."

Something inside him snapped.

He kissed her like he was starving, teeth clashing against hers, tongue sliding deep as he ground his hips into her, letting her feel just how hard he was. His hands were everywhere palming her breasts, gripping her hips, holding her like she was something he was afraid to lose.

Then, suddenly, he was gone sitting back on his knees, undoing his jeans with one hand, yanking the zipper down with a rough jerk.

Her mouth went dry as he freed himself, his cock thick and aching, flushed red at the tip, already leaking precum.

Steve caught the way her eyes widened, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "You can take it," he murmured, dragging his length over her slit, coating himself in her slickness. "I’ll make sure you do."

She barely had time to brace herself before he pushed in, just the tip, stretching her impossibly slow, letting her feel every inch as her body opened for him.

"Jesus Christ," Steve groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he fought to keep himself from slamming into her all at once. "So fucking tight, sweetheart, squeezing me like you don’t wanna let go."

She whimpered, nails raking down his back as she felt him stretching her inch by inch, every thick, pulsing inch sinking deeper until he bottomed out, buried to the hilt.

Her head fell back against the pillows, lips parted in a soundless moan as she struggled to breathe. "Steve..."

His mouth was on hers instantly, swallowing her gasps as he stilled, his body shaking from the effort. "Look at me," he demanded, voice barely more than a growl.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, her vision blurred with heat, with pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain.

"You feel that?" he murmured, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath ragged. "You were made for me, baby,” then he moved.

A slow, torturous drag before slamming back in, setting a rhythm that was devastatingly deep, rough, and possessive.

She cried out, her body jolting with every thrust, the pleasure so intense it bordered on unbearable.

Steve groaned, burying his face in her neck, his breath ragged. "Mine," he growled against her skin, punctuating the word with another sharp thrust. "Say it."

"Yours," she gasped, nails clawing at his shoulders. "I’m yours."

A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest, and then he was gone, lost in her, lost in the pleasure, lost in the feel of her wrapped around him, squeezing him like she never wanted to let go.

Her body was fire, nerves ablaze, every single inch of her consumed by him, the overwhelming stretch, the unrelenting force of his thrusts, the deep, possessive way he took her, like she was something he had finally allowed himself to have.

She could barely breathe, barely think. The only thing that existed was the way Steve filled her, the deep, ragged sounds that escaped his throat, the desperate way his hands held onto her like he thought she might disappear.

"Fuck," Steve groaned, his voice wrecked, his body trembling with restraint. "Sweetheart, I can't…not gonna last!"

His words sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through her. "Don’t stop," she whimpered, nails dragging down his back, leaving marks he wouldn’t feel but she knew he’d wear like a brand. "Steve!”

That was all it took.

He snapped.

His grip on her hips tightened, and suddenly, he was driving into her, rougher, deeper, the rhythm frantic, almost desperate. Each thrust sent pleasure shattering through her, wrecking her, his body pressing into hers, so close yet somehow not close enough.

She was right there, right on the edge, her entire body coiling.

"Come for me," Steve ordered, his voice barely human, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot and ragged. "*I need you to come, sweetheart." he cursed.

Her body obeyed before her mind did.

The orgasm tore through her like a shockwave, her vision whiting out as she screamed his name, body convulsing around him, gripping him like she never wanted to let go.

Steve choked out a curse, his rhythm faltering as he felt her clench around him, pulling him deeper, sending him straight to the edge. His breath stuttered, his entire body shuddering as he slammed into her one final time, spilling deep inside her with a low, wrecked groan.

He froze, buried inside her to the hilt, his entire body shaking, a deep, guttural moan rumbling in his chest as he emptied himself completely, filling her so full it left her dizzy.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Their bodies were tangled, breath mingling, skin slick with sweat, the only sound in the room the rapid, erratic pounding of their hearts.

Then, slowly, Steve slumped forward, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath still uneven, his arms trembling as he caged her beneath him.

"Jesus," he whispered, voice wrecked, like he’d just been ruined.

She let out a shaky breath, hands sliding up to thread into his damp hair. "Yeah," she murmured weakly. "Jesus."

Steve exhaled a breathless chuckle, then—very carefully—pulled out of her, shifting to the side, immediately pulling her into his arms.

For a while, neither of them spoke. He just held her, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles along her spine, his lips brushing the top of her head.

But then, he sighed. A deep, heavy breath that made his chest rise beneath her cheek.

"I’m sorry," he murmured.

She blinked, tilting her head up to look at him. "For what?"

Steve groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "For being an asshole," he admitted, his voice dripping with regret. "For making you think I didn’t want you."

Her stomach twisted at the way his voice softened, at the sheer remorse in it. "I did," she confessed quietly. "I really thought you-"

"I know," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair, his grip tightening around her. "I hate that I made you feel that way."

She shifted in his arms, pressing a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat beneath her fingers. "Then why did you pull away?"

Steve inhaled sharply, his fingers stilling on her back.

For a moment, she thought he might not answer.

"Because I was scared," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Scared I’d ruin this. Scared I’d ruin you."

Her breath hitched. "Steve-"

He shook his head, tilting her chin up so he could look her in the eye. "I’ve spent my whole life fighting, being a soldier, being ‘Captain America,’ being whatever the world needed me to be. But with you…" He exhaled sharply, his expression raw. "With you, I don’t have to be anything other than just…me."

Her heart clenched. "And you thought that wasn’t enough?"

Steve’s jaw tensed, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "I thought if I let myself have you, I’d lose control. I thought I’d need you too much." He let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Turns out I was right."

She swallowed hard, fingers threading through his. "I don’t mind."

He gave her a look. "Sweetheart, I just fucked you so hard I nearly broke the bed."

She snorted, cheeks flushing, but didn’t look away. "I still don’t mind."

Steve groaned, pulling her against his chest, burying his face in her hair. "God help me," he muttered. "I’m never letting you go."

She smiled, her lips pressing against his bare shoulder. "Good." Steve Rogers finally allowed himself the one thing he had denied for too long, peace.

Because she was his and he was never letting her go.

[noorpersona]

Rivalry: Atsumu Pt. 5

The sharp clang of the school bell signaled the end of class, jolting you out of your thoughts. You blinked, realizing you had barely absorbed a single word of the lecture. Your fingers mindlessly traced the spine of your textbook as students shuffled around you, chairs scraping against the floor, the din of conversation rising as everyone spilled into the hallway for lunch.

Your body moved on autopilot, gathering your belongings and slipping into the throng of students, but your mind was somewhere else entirely. The past few days had been a blur, a tangled mess of secrets, frustration, and moments you couldn’t quite categorize. Your lips tingled at the memory of his mouth on them, your skin still seemed to burn where he had touched you, and no matter how much you tried to shake it, you felt restless.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed when you stepped into the cafeteria—

Until a loud, unmistakable voice cut through the noise like a whip.

"Where the hell have you been?!"

You barely had time to process before Hana Yoshida came barreling toward you, her long dark hair swaying dramatically behind her, eyes narrowed with accusation and concern.

You winced. Shit.

"You have been straight-up ghosting me, and I swear to god if you say it's because of some stupid schoolwork, I will lose my mind."

Her hands found her hips as she planted herself in front of you, blocking your path with the kind of intensity only Hana could manage. She was radiating energy, a force of nature wrapped in an oversized school sweater and a skirt she had definitely rolled up against dress code.

You opened your mouth to protest, but she immediately cut you off, her sharp brown eyes narrowing further. "No. Don’t even try to make an excuse, because I know you. And I know when you’re hiding something."

You shifted uncomfortably, your hands gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. "I—uh—"

"Yeah, uh-uh, my ass." Hana scoffed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you toward your usual lunch spot with zero room for argument. "Spill. Now. Before I start making up my own theories, and trust me, you won't like them."

You swallowed hard.

"I've just been busy," you tried weakly, avoiding her piercing gaze. "You know, school, club activities, the usual."

Hana’s eyes narrowed even further as she leaned in closer, scanning your face with an almost predatory level of scrutiny. And then, as if something suddenly clicked, her jaw dropped.

She gasped so loudly that a few students actually turned their heads in curiosity. Then, without missing a beat, she pointed an accusatory finger directly at your chest.

"Oh. My. God. You’ve been having sex!"

Your stomach plummeted.

Panic shot through you at lightning speed, your hand flying up to clasp over her mouth before she could blurt out another humiliating declaration for the entire cafeteria to hear.

"Shut up!" you hissed, your face heating up so fast you thought you might combust on the spot. "Would you keep your voice down?!"

Hana’s muffled laugh vibrated against your palm before she wrenched your hand away, eyes practically sparkling with glee. "Oh, I knew it! I knew something was up! And judging by how flustered you are, I’m right!"

She smirked, leaning in even closer, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "You look so mellow and relaxed lately. And honestly? You’re glowing. Whoever is dicking you down is doing a great job."

Your face erupted in flames. "Will you just shut up?!" you hissed, mortified beyond belief, your eyes darting around to make sure no one else had overheard.

Hana only grinned wider, clearly having the time of her life. "Oh, I am so not shutting up. I need details."

You stuttered, scrambling for a way out of this conversation. "T-there's nothing to say. It was just a fling," you lied through your teeth, knowing full well that wasn’t the case.

Hana's eyes narrowed like a predator locking onto its prey. "Oh, sure. Just a fling? You, Miss ‘I Don’t Do Hookups’? You expect me to believe that?"

Before she could press you further, a loud voice cut through the cafeteria noise, pulling you from Hana’s relentless interrogation.

"Hey, manager!"

You turned, internally sighing in relief, as Osamu, Atsumu, Aran, Suna, and Hitoshi made their way toward you. The group moved with familiar ease, their casual bickering bleeding into the air like background static. Even before they reached your table, you could tell they were in the middle of one of their stupid arguments.

"God, you guys can’t leave me alone, huh?" you teased, forcing yourself to sound as normal as possible while shifting slightly in your seat. You could still feel Hana's gaze boring into the side of your head, but for now, she was momentarily distracted.

Hana huffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, you guys get her before and after school. Can't I reserve her for lunch?"

"Don't worry, we only need her for a quick second," Suna added with a smirk, earning a roll of your eyes.

"We got a serious debate," Hitoshi declared, arms crossed, his expression dead serious. "Would you rather fight a hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?"

Osamu sighed, shaking his head. "A hundred duck-sized horses, obviously. A horse-sized duck would be terrifying."

Suna scoffed. "Nah, you’re thinking too hard about it. A horse-sized duck would have hollow bones. It wouldn’t even be that strong."

You blinked, deadpan. "That’s what you’re arguing about?"

Atsumu grinned, leaning forward, his golden eyes glinting with mischief. "C’mon, we need a tie-breaker."

You rolled your eyes, already feeling the familiar urge to snark back. "Knowing you, Miya, you’d lose to both."

Atsumu’s smug expression instantly dropped, replaced with mock offense. "Excuse me? I’d destroy that oversized poultry."

"Doubt it," you shot back. "You’d probably trip over your own ego before you could throw the first punch."

Atsumu’s golden eyes gleamed with challenge, his smirk widening as if he was ready to throw another quip your way. He leaned in slightly, opening his mouth—

"Oh, sweetheart, you really gotta work on your comebacks. That one barely stung."

"Oh, up yours, you insufferable—" you began with a sweet smile, voice dripping with venom, but before you could finish, Aran cut in with a sigh. "Okay, okay, let’s get food before this turns into another screaming match."

You raised your hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm the one with self-control."

Atsumu shot you a glare, clearly not amused, his mouth opening to retort, but you only grinned wider. "That being said—a horse-sized duck."

Half the boys erupted into a small but silent victory celebration, their smug grins a stark contrast to the ones rolling their eyes in annoyance. With that, the group turned and began heading toward the lunch line, still bickering about the logistics of fighting oversized poultry.

Atsumu threw you one last smirk, his golden eyes flashing with something too smug, too knowing, before turning on his heel to follow the rest of the team.

It was quick, almost imperceptible, but there was something in that fleeting glance—a silent challenge, a lingering amusement, a spark of something neither of you wanted to name. Your stomach twisted at the way his smirk lingered even as he walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the lunch crowd.

You barely had time to process it before Hana's nails dug into your arm with newfound intensity.

"Oh. My. God. Miya Atsumu?!"

Your stomach dropped, the cafeteria suddenly feeling too bright, too loud, every sound around you fading into a dull hum compared to the sheer horror of what had just left Hana’s mouth.

Hana’s voice was barely a whisper, but the absolute horror and uncontainable glee in her tone made your face burn hotter than the sun, the heat creeping up your neck and settling into your ears.

"What?! You are out of your mind—" you sputtered, words tumbling out before you could even think of a solid defense. Your hands instinctively gripped the edge of the table, like you needed something to ground yourself before you keeled over in embarrassment.

But Hana just grinned, completely unfazed, watching you with a predatory kind of giddiness, like she had just unearthed the juiciest gossip of the century.

"I mean, it makes sense," she continued, tapping her chin as if she were solving a grand mystery, her eyes dancing with amusement. "He’s stupid pretty, and you both hate each other’s guts."

You opened your mouth, ready to argue, to tell her she had completely lost her mind, but then—

Hana’s expression shifted.

As if a switch flipped.

Her eyes widened, her breath caught, and then—

She gasped, loud and dramatic, clutching your arm so tightly you thought she might dislocate your shoulder.

"You’ve been having hate sex and didn’t tell me?!"

You winced, her words cutting through the already overwhelming noise of the cafeteria, but to you, they felt magnified, exposed, like she had just put you on trial in the middle of lunch hour.

A groan ripped from your throat, your hand dragging down your face as if you could physically wipe this moment from existence.

"Goddamn it, can you stop being so perceptive?" you gritted out, your voice half a plea, half a curse, the mortification settling deep in your bones.

Hana, however, looked delighted, her grin only stretching wider, eating up your suffering like it was the most entertaining thing she’d ever witnessed.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, your head dropping onto the desk with a resigned sigh.

"What do you want to know?" you mumbled, knowing full well you had just opened the floodgates to hell.

--

You told her everything—from the late-night encounters to the insults exchanged between breathless moans, the ridiculous tension that neither of you acknowledged in daylight, the way he was just so frustrating even when he wasn’t talking. Every stupid detail, every infuriating moment, all of it. The way his smirk made your skin prickle with annoyance, how his hands always seemed to leave behind an unbearable heat, the way he had this infuriating ability to push every single one of your buttons. And yet, somehow, you kept going back. Again and again.

By the time you finished, Hana was just staring at you, blinking slowly, like she needed a moment to actually process the sheer absurdity of the situation you had just described. Then, she leaned back, exhaled slowly, and with the most deadpan expression, simply said:

"Wow. I'm so jealous."

A snort escaped you before you could stop it, your body tensing and relaxing all at once. "Only you would be jealous of this kind of situation."

Hana shrugged, her lips pulling into a lazy, knowing grin. "I mean, what’s not to like? The sex is good, he’s not bad to look at—"

"I hate his guts," you cut in, scowling, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table. There was no way in hell you were letting her finish that sentence.

Hana just stopped, her eyes scanning your face with undisguised skepticism, her head tilting slightly like you had just said the dumbest thing imaginable.

"Right." She dragged the word out, voice drenched in disbelief, as if she was humoring a child who just declared they didn’t like sugar.

Your teeth clenched, frustration flaring hot in your chest. "I’m serious, Hana. I can’t stand him."

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk only growing, clearly unimpressed. "But you can stand him inside you."

Your mouth fell open in horror, your entire body locking up before you slapped her shoulder—hard enough to make her burst out into uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh my god, shut up!" you hissed, your face burning.

Hana just grinned, completely unrepentant, rubbing her arm with mock injury. "I’m just saying. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a thing for him."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Absolutely not. I could never see myself with him. It’s just physical. That’s it."

"Mmhmm," Hana hummed, tapping her chin dramatically, like she was filing away her own private analysis of your situation. Then, after a few seconds, she tilted her head, as if casually remembering something.

"Then you shouldn’t care that Ayumi Tanaka is planning on asking him out."

Your entire body tensed before your head snapped toward her so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

"What?" you blurted out, voice sharper than you intended.

Hana blinked, her lips quirking as if she knew exactly what she was doing. "Oh, yeah. She was talking about it in the locker room the other day. Said she’s been into him for a while and figured she’d shoot her shot."

Your jaw locked, a strange heat curling in your chest. "And… he said what?"

Hana shrugged. "Dunno. She hasn’t asked him yet. But she was pretty confident."

You hated the way your stomach twisted at that. Absolutely despised it. Because it shouldn’t matter. It really, really shouldn’t. This thing with Atsumu? It wasn’t real—just something to get out of both your systems. That’s it. That was the agreement. And yet, the thought of him with someone else, letting someone else touch him, whisper things into his ear, run their hands over his skin—

No. Absolutely not.

Wait. Why do I care?

Hana leaned forward, watching your expression with obvious amusement. "Oh, wow. You hate him so much, yet here you are, looking like you just swallowed a lemon."

You tore your gaze away, forcing yourself to breathe. "I don’t care."

Hana smirked. "Right. Totally buying that."

Before you could snap back, the sharp ring of the school bell split the air, signaling the end of lunch. You shot up from your seat so fast it nearly knocked your tray over.

"Oh wow, the bell! Gotta go!" you rushed out, grabbing your bag and making a beeline for the exit like your life depended on it.

Hana, still seated, only crossed her arms, watching you flee with an exasperated shake of her head. "This isn’t over!" she called after you, her voice carrying over the cafeteria noise.

You barely heard her as you pushed through the hallway, her words still rattling in your head. Your stomach twisted as you replayed the conversation, the image of Atsumu with someone else digging its claws into your brain like an itch you couldn't scratch. The idea of another girl sliding her hands over his skin, pulling those same groans from his throat, whispering in his ear—it sent a fresh, unwanted wave of irritation crawling through your veins.

You trudged down the hallway, weaving through the clusters of students lingering outside their classrooms, your mind still clouded with the lingering conversation you had barely escaped from. Hana’s words played on a loop in your head, irritating and persistent, no matter how much you tried to shake them off.

It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.

[mybbmbby]

Missing you

Keegan Russ x Reader

Bf! Keegan x fem!reader, angst, fluff.

This is my first fic, so spare me here!

830+ word count

_____________________________________________

It was the dead of night. Ever since your boyfriend’s sudden deployment over a month ago, you’ve been on edge. Before he left you had a heated argument, which didn’t get properly resolved. Each day that has passed has been heart-wrenching without him. “God, he could die out there,” you thought everyday, all day. Tears filled your eyes at the thought of never seeing him again.

“Fuck.” you whispered as your shaking hands wiped at your damp cheeks, dropping the soapy plate back into the sink. The dishes were piling up, hell, you haven’t done laundry for weeks. Everything was piling up. Your damp hands gripped the edge of the sink, letting out a deep, shaky breath, eyes wide as thoughts raced through your head.

“I can't do this.” You murmured out, pulse beginning to pick up, feeling your heart beating against your chest. Quickly, you walked out of the kitchen, hands still dripping from attempting to wash the dishes. You tugged the sliding door open, finding comfort in the cool breeze of the night. Curling up on the wicker patio couch positioned by the balcony, knees instinctively going up to your chest. Your eyes, still filled with tears, stared down at the still-busy streets below. Cars cruising by, headlights illuminating their paths. The faint chirping of crickets could be heard, your eyes fluttering shut at the comforting noise. Your teeth mindlessly nipped at your bottom lip, picking at the skin. Slowly, your body began to relax, head slumping against the plush cushioning of the chair.

Who knows how much time had passed since you dozed off, you didn’t care though, sleeping only made time pass quicker. A shuffling could be heard from inside, your eyes immediately widening at the noise.

‘Great, I’m getting robbed,’ Is the first thought that ran through your head, another great thing to happen in your life recently.

The sound of heavy feet patting against the floor could be heard, the noise sounding almost frantic, moving around the midst of your apartment. Our apartment.

A huff could be heard as the footsteps suddenly stopped. Your heartbeat picked up in your chest, hammering against it.

“Baby?” A gruff voice called out, your mind stopping, your heart practically skipping a beat. Mindlessly, you stumbled up from the couch, hands gripping onto the edge of the door frame, looking inside.

Inside, the figure of him could be seen. Standing tall, turning to face you as you stood in the door way. Tears had already began to pour down your face, lip trembling as you sobbed before him.

In an instant he was in front of you, strong arms bringing you to him. His calloused hand cradled your head against his chest, shushing your cries. “I’m here,” he cooed out, his other hand rubbing up and down your back. Your trembling lips cried out his name between sobs, arms wrapping tightly around his middle, as if he would disappear once you let go.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” you cried out, tear stained cheeks wetting his t-shirt. He was silent for a moment, simply just holding you close in the moment.

“I know, should’ve never left like that,” he murmured out to you, his chin resting atop your head, fingers brushing gently through your hair. Whispered apologies continued to fall from your lips, hands clinging to his t-shirt.

His hands came up, holding your face, tilting it back to look down at you. You looked like a wreck, eyes glossy, lips puffy from crying for God knows how long. “Look at me,” he whispered softly, his thumb brushing away a lingering tear that was rolling down your cheek.

“I’m here, ok? ‘M not going anywhere,” he murmured softly, his deep voice soothing your aching heart. Your head frantically nodded, the frantic murmur of “ok” escaping your lips in a whispered loop at his reassuring words.

It was silent for a few moments, your unsteady breathing the only sound to be heard, before speaking shaky words, “I- I missed you so much.”

His eyes were soft, brow furrowed in concern as he gazed down at your broken expression. “I know..I’m never leaving you like that again, y’hear?”

“Yes,” is all that you could whisper out, your eyes staring deeply up into his as if you were looking right into him. Your hands moved to grip his wide shoulders, gently pulling him down to you, your trembling lips meeting his chapped ones.

He let out a quiet groan as his lips pressed gently to yours, hands still cradling your face. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips moving against his gently, savoring the moment you had craved since you woke up alone all those weeks ago. Your hands moved to tangle in his short, raven hair, before pulling away gently. His forehead rested against yours, murmuring against your lips. “Been thinking about doing that for too long.” You couldn’t help but crack a small smile at his words, speaking in the same hushed tone, “Me too.”

[buckys-little-belle]

i have a fluffy drabble idea: steve or bucky (because they have super strength) using a throw blanket to sawddle wrap you to secure you to their chest. and then they carry you around while they do their tasks. and then you're lulled to sleep by their heartbeat and gentle voice explaining their paperwork to you

-🐝

Swaddle Snuggle

Steve Rogers x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used) / Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Talks of reader feeling "down"/sad and/or stressed, snuggles, use of "Dada"

Notes - I made these headcannons because I feel like they'd both be so different when it comes to swaddle snuggles, and I couldn't pick just one of them to write about! This ask is also so old, like over a year old, and I miss my bee anon, and I'm sorry I didn't get this out sooner! I hope y'all like it!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!!!

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Steve

Steve loves when you're snuggly and clingy. He always looks forward to the days where you can't be away from him for more than a second.

He used to just sit with you in his lap on the couch when you needed a close contact day, he'd do whatever work he could from his laptop, and he'd pick you up and carry you around the house when he had to get up.

But that wasn't very practical. He often had things during the day that required two hands, and you hated being put down.

So he adjusted, he found a light weight big blanket and created a swaddle sling. You sat with your legs around his waist like usual, chest to chest, with your hands trapped between the two of you. The blanket worked mainly as a bottom support keeping you in a sitting position against his chest, but it also went over your back, giving you extra warmth and allowing Steve to bend over when needed.

It made everything easier, you could stay snuggled against him and he could do computer work, or the laundry, or make lunch. He had two hands, and you had all the cuddles you needed.

If it was a cold day he would often lay a fuzzy blanket over your back when he sat down. He'd be sat in his office chair, you on his lap, and a fuzzy blanket keeping you warm from the open window's slight breeze.

To be fair he was a super solider ... So he ran warmer than most, and his body heat kept you quite warm.

Nap time was nice because instead of being on the second floor in your playroom, far away from you Dada, you could take a nap wherever he was.

The comfort of his hand rubbing slow circles against your back comforting you. And the constant pitter patter of his keyboard keys often lulled you to sleep.

Bucky

Bucky didn't wait for you to have needy days. He sometimes needed to have you in his arms all day to remind him that you were there, with him and needing him.

So he'd found a way to wrap you up, the same as Steve. You plastered to his chest as he went about his day.

He didn't work at a desk as often as Steve, so he often had you with him as he went on a walk around the property, finding cool stones and sticks to add to your collection. You'd be stuck close to him as he meal prepped for the week, him saying the recipes and directions out loud as soft instrumental music played.

That often lulled you to sleep. The soft swaying that happened as he walked around the kitchen, and his deep voice mixed with the soft music. It was easy to fall asleep that way.

Sometimes he'd have you sit in the wrap facing the other way, your back to his chest.

He'd have you that way as he worked on the cars, your hands able to hold onto wrenches or random objects to keep you engaged. Because he would pick random days to have you stuck to him you often were more hyper aware. Talking and babbling about things, grabbing for things with your hands.

But he still needed you so close, so you sat facing outwards. He liked the way he could snuggle you close at all times, but still hear your infectious laugh, and how he could make sure you didn't leave his sight, but you could also still play go fish with him.

Even though they were two very different ways to be swaddled you looked forward to both. Excited to be Steve's little Snuggle Bear or Bucky's little Sidekick.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Legacy II

Magdalena Eriksson x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Chelsea's reaction to you

Magda finally strays from your side after six weeks.

She would have stayed for longer but she knew that if she did, she would never go back to England. So, it's with a heavy heart that she gets the last of her baby cuddles and boards the flight back to London.

She mopes all through the weekend though, draining her phone battery from the frequent calls to Pernille to see you. When Monday rolls around, Magda is still in a little bit of a slump as she makes her way to training.

She gets there early like usual and sits in her cubby, scrolling through her gallery and biting at her cheek to stifle her tears. She misses you and Pernille like crazy.

"Holy shit, is that the baby?!"

Millie barges her way to Magda's cubby, sliding to sit next to her and practically wrenching the phone out of her hands.

"She's so cute!"

That makes Magda swell with pride as she points out the little things in the photo about you.

"She's got very strong reflexes," Magda boasts," So she's going to be very smart! And-And she kicks a lot so she's going to be a footballer too!"

Magda flicks to another picture and waits an appropriate amount of time for Millie to coo over you.

"And she always forgets she has feet! It's so cute! She gets so surprised."

The locker room slowly fills up and everyone makes a little stop by Magda to look at pictures of you.

"I can't believe Nilla got to see her first," Jonna complains as she watches a video of you staring up at your baby mobile," That's so unfair."

"She helped get Pernille to the hospital," Magda reminds her though her eyes don't stray from your image on her phone," I think she more than earned it."

"And Frido too? Did she really get on the first flight?"

"She did," Magda confirms," She didn't even tell us until she was outside our door. The princesse loves her though."

"Yeah, well, Fridos tend to stick together." Jonna flicked to another picture.

It was very sweet but it just made Magda miss you and Pernille even more. You're bundled up in your baby blanket, eyes closed softly. Pernille's shirtless and your little hand is gripping her collarbone possessively. Pernille's smiling down softly at you, one hand reaching up to rest on your head while the other is curled around your body to keep you stable and safe against her.

"Motherhood looks good on you," Beth says with a laugh as Magda yawns while flicking through images - she's easily got more than a hundred of just you.

"I'm exhausted," Magda replies but she keeps the smile on her face," But it's so worth it. She makes these cute little noises in her sleep and I swear she can understand me already."

Beth laughs, clapping her on the back. "Is it hard? Being away from her?"

Magda's face falls a little as she looks at your picture. "Yeah," She admits," She...She's just so little and it's just Pernille with her now. I just want her with me all the time. I've already booked a flight for next week to go and see them, straight after the game."

"You're a great mum already, Magda," Beth says," That little girl is so lucky."

The compliment makes Magda flush a little and she stares down at her home screen - a picture of you sitting on her lap. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the squeaky thing behind that camera that Pernille's using to make you look in the right direction. Magda's sitting behind you, a massive smile on her face as you lean comfortably against her.

"She's perfect," Is what she says in reply," She makes it easy to be a good mum."

Beth laughs. "God, motherhood's made you sappy. Come on, we've still got training to do."

Training is the perfect way to get her mind off of the thought of you and Pernille. Training is easy, it's repetitive and it keeps Magda from even straying into the idea of missing you as much as she does.

"Magda," Emma says as she walks past the coaching office to get to the changing rooms.

"Er...yeah?"

"Come in."

The whole exchange makes Magda feel antsy. She runs through everything that's happened in training and wonders if perhaps she has done something wrong.

She can't think of anything so feels on edge as she sits in front of Emma's desk.

"Well?" Emma says and Magda's throat bobs.

"What?"

"Do I get to see baby pictures too or are they just reserved for players?"

Magda lets out a small laugh, half of relief and half of amusement.

"You want to see them?"

Emma raises a brow. "Well, I'd like to see the future Chelsea star you and Pernille made."

Magda fishes her phone out of her pocket and opens it to her gallery. "Funny. Pernille swears she'll play for Wolfsburg."

"This little girl will play for me come hell or high water, Magda," Emma says," I'll make sure of it."